Realm
by Gumdrop Boo
Summary: Selendrile has betrayed Alys’s trust - But now she is trapped in a beautiful, but dangerous land - his home. A place of madness, lust, new enemies, greater powers, and the place where she will learn his secrets and his torrid past. Dragon’s Lore Sequel
1. The Awakening

A/N: IMPORTANT! Just a friendly reminder that if you continue forth without having read 'Dragon's Lore' you will be horribly confused. So you should read that story first, this story will still be here when you get done :)

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"_I sense there's something in the wind_

_That seems like tragedy is at hand_

_And though I'd like to stand by him_

_Can't shake this feeling that I have_

_The worst is just around the bend_

_And does he notice my feelings for him?_

_And will he see how much he means to me?_

_I think it's not be…"_

There was a lovely singing in her head—seductive almost.

She had never been able to sing _that_ well and it didn't even sound like her voice. She concluded it certainly was not her voice and then she opened her eyes. A blurred, bright purple gaze stared back at her, concerned.

He sighed with more relief than she ever knew dragons to have. "You're awake. Good."

He sounded glad.

Maybe she _was_ just dreaming. If her memory served her correctly, he wanted nothing more to do with her. She was more curious about the mysterious song she heard though. It rang familiar somehow…

"There…there… was singing in my head," she sat up slowly, seeing he was holding her. She pushed out of his grasp and felt reminiscence of pain in her back.

The landscape was blurred as well, but with abnormal colors. She saw the twisted roots of a nearby tree and followed the enormous trunk upward with her eyes, surprised to find no leaves but a giant mushroom head at the end. There were attractive men surrounding them…no…she shook her head to clear her vision. It only helped a little. They weren't _men_ but the same dragon-youths she had come to know.

"Just the subsprites," Telonge offered from not too far away. They were all without shirts, only wearing breeches.

"The what?"

"Subsprites, a little phenomenon in the wind that goes through your head and sings your subconscious to your conscious."

She shook her head again at his nonsense, not understanding a word.

Then Alys noticed it was rather warm—hot—even. Where had the winter gone? Where was the snow and bitter chill? She couldn't remember what had happened.

The last thing she did remember was freeing Lianna from the dungeon.

As her vision cleared more and more, she was able to see more and more of her surroundings. The landscape was a mix of bright colors. The grass was a light yellow; the plants were either orange, purple, or red. The mushroom-trees were pink. It was very clear this was not the same land as before—maybe not even the same world.

Lianna approached her cautiously wearing a worried frown. Lianna had been wearing a heavy winter gown before but now she was stripped down to her underskirt and corset. She also had no shoes on. Alys gave her a questioning look.

"Come with me, I need to share a few words," she held out her hands for Alys to take and stand. The dragon-youths simply watched them as Lianna led her past a series of giant stones and smaller tree-like-pods, into a small clearing. There was a small stream of golden water that shimmered as it flowed past.

There were too many inquiries in Alys's mind on what was happening to actually ask one. Instead she watched the stream, hypnotized.

"Are you not boiling up in that gown?" Lianna asked when they were out of earshot from the fey, although Alys knew they all had keen hearing and were probably listening anyway. She stopped focusing on the golden water and thought about it. Perspiration was soaking her skin, and the gown was sticking to her body.

"Yes."

"You should probably take it off then."

"I don't have anything else to change into!"

"I didn't either, and I figure there isn't a soul around except the dragons so why be ashamed in our undergarments if there is no proper people around to judge?" Lianna answered most casually.

Alys blushed, she did have a point but she didn't like the thought of amused dragon-youths looking at her body. She grumbled, wiped the perspiration off her forehead and started to disrobe into her undergarments as well.

"I don't even know where we are!" she cried spinning around and pointing at the overhanging mushroom trees and the flowers as big as her head. "Where are we!?"

"Their home."

Alys faced Lianna, did she mean _the Realm_—that place the dragons talked of, and the place Selendrile told her he was going but she was not to follow? Impossible! Selendrile was there but yet she was there too. "How do you know?"

"Take a look around you, Alys. There is no place in our world that these things exist. Golden water, gigantic trees that have mushroom heads, flowers as big as your head? We faded with them here."

Alys gave Lianna a look that questioned her sanity, "What?"

Lianna sighed and squatted to the ground, using her finger to draw a picture in the orange dirt.

"You were so concerned with reaching Selendrile that you failed to notice he was about to be destroyed by Varisca—the sorceress of ages. You interfered, and blocked her power from harming him, and the only reason _you_ survived was because of that blessing he gave you.

After you collapsed, Moshire attacked her and then all of us faded from our world into this place. Willyr said it had something to do with 'running out of time' but I still haven't figured out what he means."

She stood and Alys saw what she wrote in the dirt. Her index finger was tainted with orange dust. She had written a word.

_Lathandrian_

"I've heard that word before…" Alys squinted at it.

"What? Where? Do you know what it means?" Lianna took Alys by her shoulders and asked.

"Moshire said it. He said they had run out of time for it."

"Exactly the same thing Willyr spoke of. They were running out of time!"

Both ladies pondered what it could have meant. They knew it was no use asking one of the fey what it's true meaning was.

"Maybe it is an event, or holiday? Perhaps they had to return by a certain date and this is the day or event of _Lathandrian_?" Lianna racked her mind for guesses.

"Perhaps, but then what is so important that nothing is happening now that we are here?" Alys shrugged.

Something was nagging at the back of Alys's mind however, a question that needed a faster answer than the mystery of what 'Lathandrian' was.

"Lianna, how did _I_ come to be here? Selendrile said I was not to follow him but yet I am here. How is it possible?"

"Well he couldn't just _leave_ you there. You had been the recipient of a tirade of destruction magic, you weren't conscious, and when we all faded, he must have grabbed you and you faded with him as well." Lianna reasoned.

Alys bit her lip and tasted bitterness. He had told her _not_ to follow, but yet he was the one that took her with him. Maybe he did have a use for her after all—or he did so because she had saved him once again and he was in her debt. She sighed.

"We should probably go back and see what happens next. They've been on edge since we arrived."

"What happened to the sorceress?"

"I don't know. Moshire leapt on her as a dragon, but he never ended her. In fact, I haven't seen him around since we appeared here. I only assume he faded as well." Lianna shrugged.

Alys did the same. Alys also removed her shoes, for the ground was soft and sandy, and felt good in between her toes. Although, the bottoms of her feet turned orange from the dirt. A bird flew overhead—the first living thing beside themselves they had seen. It made an agitated '_peeping' _sound and landed right in the middle of the dragon-youth gathering. The ladies saw Aerend jump away from the small black bird with startlement. Lianna grabbed Alys's arm and prevented them from walking further. They crouched low and watched through purple-leaved bushes.

The tiny bird made more '_peeps'_ and then another landed beside it. Alys watched Selendrile's reaction to the birds, and it was one she _never_ saw before—nervousness.

More of the little black birds landed around the first one, and they started hopping on each other—creating a tower of some sort—creating a shape. All the while they endlessly '_peeped.' _The dragon-youths stayed away from the new mass the birds were creating, anticipating something.

Then the birds, their bodies, beaks, feathers—all disappeared to be replaced by the whole shape of a woman. She was tall and has the body shape of a human. She wore a black-feathered gown that trailed behind her, and though it was a hot temperature, she did not show any discomfort in that dress. Her hair was blonde though and her eyes were…not like anything Alys had ever seen.

"Your majesty," she stated coldly, aimed at Selendrile.

"Lallielle," he inclined his head with a charming smile. She was not impressed, and it was the first time Alys had ever seen a woman not melt away at his dazzling smile.

"It is no use to hide, for you are in his lands now and he wishes to speak with you. You shall return to the palace at once, where he will decide your fate for disobeying."

Selendrile lost his charm and he snarled, "AND what if we don't return? Will he get off his lazy ass, halt his madness carnival to track us down?!"

Lallielle wore a cool grin, "Nay, he will simply fade you there the way he plucked you from the mortal world and you will appear before him. You can't fight him, he owns you. He owns all of us."

She turned around and looked straight at the two mortal women in the bushes. Lianna gasped and Alys held her breath, hoping the strange lady hadn't seen them but her eyes were right on them.

She didn't look like she had seen them at least no acknowledgment crossed her face. Instead she closed her eyes and lifted her arms high. A hundred small black birds exploded from her form and flew away, leaving no trace of the woman behind.

Alys swallowed hard, not understanding what she was talking about to the dragons.

'_He owns you. He owns all of us.'_


	2. The Questioning

After they could no longer hear the '_peeps'_ of the black birds, Alys and Lianna ran from the bushes to the rest of them.

"She saw us! She looked right at us!" Alys pointed to the sky although the woman and the birds that made her were far away by now.

Selendrile let out a breath and sat down on a blue-mossy rock.

"She can't see you. You are below her."

Alys huffed, offended. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Telonge saw Alys's fists tighten and intervened, "It means, sweetcake, that unless you speak to her first, she has no idea you exist."

"AND you _won't_ speak to anyone you come across in these lands," Selendrile stated.

Alys hated his bossiness. Why shouldn't she talk to any other fey?

"I _will_."

She could see him tense, he slowly turned his head and narrowed his eyes. She sensed a danger in him she had not felt before, a silent threat of all the terrible things he could do to her if she didn't comply. He must have not been used to being told _'no'._ After all, he was Draconian royalty.

Still, she held out her chin stubbornly and bravely as he stood and approached her. He stood close and she could feel the heat radiating off his body, whether from the natural temperature or his anger she could only guess.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "If you don't stay close and if you utter a word towards any fey in the realm, you _will_ be destroyed."

She pulled away and stared at him. "_You_ would destroy me, Selendrile?"

He didn't answer but looked away, as hard as it was because her gaze was so full of an alluring disobedience to him. It was the kind of persona that had attracted him to Sasinna. She grabbed his wrist, not taking his silence for an answer. That is what she had always done, ever since she had met him. It had to stop. _He _had to stop being so vague. They were in a different world, and Alys would be damned if she was to be strung along this time without answers. He spun around quickly and yanked out of her grasp. She yelped as he instead caught her arm and half drug her away from the others. He pushed her backwards until her back was up against the trunk of a mushroom-tree. She opened her mouth to scream in surprise, but he covered it. It was so hot, with him pressed up against her to keep her from struggling. Something was different about her, he sensed, but couldn't find the exact change.

He let out a breath and gazed down at her, his rush of adrenaline subsiding. He liked the feel of her against him. Her heart was pounding so hard he felt it through both of them. She was angry, not frightened. That was it—that was the subtle change. Alys had always asked many questions, but sat by when he refused to answer. She was now determined to get an answer, even if that meant angering him. She had gotten the wrong idea, if she thought _he_ was going to destroy her. So he smiled complacently, "No Alys, I wouldn't destroy you."

That was an answer that made Alys furious with him. He said it as if he was talking to a child, and he said it in a tone that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. However, Alys couldn't understand why she was there if he had told her that she couldn't be.

She positively glared at him and kicked at him until he released her.

"Maybe you_ should_ destroy me. After all, I have followed you to a place I _was not_ supposed to. You have no use for me, you are done with me."

He sighed, knowing she had not forgiven him for those words he spoke in the dungeon. He had done a good job of sounding _too_ convincing, and he was at a loss on how to remedy it. He needed her to trust him, she _had_ to now that they were in the Realm or else she really would end up being destroyed.

"Well, we are here now. You have to trust me, because you are in a dangerous place." He turned to go back and meant for her to follow, but she stood where she was.

Alys didn't care if it was dangerous. Was it more dangerous than having a dragon for a companion? Was it more dangerous than impersonating a boy and lying to an inquisitor? More dangerous than battling a soreceress? She didn't know because he _never_ explained _anything_. She did know though, she would never be tricked into trusting him again. "Selendrile, I wouldn't trust you for the world."

It stung him. He turned to face her. She was a couple feet behind him and staring coldly at him. He saw her seriousness and her pain through her green eyes. There was a promise in them, and he knew that a simple apology would not clear it away. She didn't realize that the words he spoke in the dungeon were false and the words spoken at the inn were a few of the truest he had ever said. He would not leave her, not for the world.

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In another part of the realm a brass dragon watched carefully over a mage. She was nervous and sat on the ground wearing nothing but her undergarments as it was so hot in the new world. At first, she was delighted to have found the hideaway of the fey but horrified to find out that her powers were no longer in her. She had tried battling Moshire away with her power but it was as if her power was a bright flame and it had been blown out upon arrival.

The other dragons were nowhere to bee seen, and she was thankful for that, for she knew they would rip her apart if they got a hold of her and she would be powerless to stop them.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally inquired and jumped up to face him. The great dragon tilted his head almost in a gesture of innocence—but then released tendrils of smoke from its nostrils. Then his from folded into the human that had charmed his way into her heart. A great tearing feeling rose up within her, for he was no longer a vision of comfort but betrayal. She saw why he called himself '_Soleric_' because he was a dragon of the sun—a _Solaric_ dragon. She mentally hit herself for not realizing sooner, only because his charms clouded her good judgment.

He was already wearing breeches only, not having to change into human clothes once he transformed.

"I've figured out who you are."

She glared at him, _and what does he meant by that?_

He approached her and she tensed—backed away.

"Long ago, you danced upon my fey alter. Every Spring, you tied ribbons into you hair and then danced for hours. There was no music, but the tune in your head and I watched transfixed, almost hypnotized at the passion in your movements." He said leaning closer, speaking softly.

She felt tears reach her eyes and she raised her hand to slap him away but he caught her wrist. He didn't smile slyly or silently mock her with his eyes like she suspected, but only continued with his story.

"So I granted you a blessing."

She gasped and yanked her hand away, eyes wide. Selendrile had told her that Moshire's blessing prevented any other fey from harming her, and that was a reason she held so much power over the other dragons.

"You see, I never wanted your dances to cease. So I bestowed upon you a blessing that would ensure you never be harmed nor age. I wanted to see you dance like that until the end of time. I was quite taken with you."

Varisca touched the pendant that Drunan had given her long ago, the jewelry she thought to be the cause of her youth. It had never been more than a pretty necklace.

It was so much to take in. It was because of Moshire she stayed young and beautiful. Then why did he let her family burn?

"They were never meant to be destroyed, Varisca."

She stared at the ground, the tears now rolling down her face. She was angry and a deep wound felt heavy in her chest. "Then what was it that you meant to do?! They burned! You killed my family and then left me to face the world alone forever! That is not a blessing—it's a curse!"

"I was there to give them a warning. Your family had stopped paying tribute and yet still prayed for good health and prosperity. They should have known if they continued to do so would not result in their favor."

"Then why did they die?"

"The fire in your home grew out of control, you escaped and for that I was glad but by the time I realized that it was too late for your family, I knew it didn't matter because I knew you would _never_ dance for me again."

Varisca stared at him, and he returned her stare. Both stares were a mixture of bitterness paired with sadness.

"I don't blame you for wanting to destroy me."

Her stare was now widened in surprise.

"I was in fact, very surprised to find it was _you_ who had killed Sasinna and taken Selendrile hostage. But the matter of fact is that you _can't_ destroy _me_ and you are here with me right now because Selendrile would rip you apart the first chance he sees fit."

"Why can't I use my powers here?"

"You don't have permission."

"Whose permission?"

"The divine of this Realm, and you will not be able to receive his permission either."

She frowned, "So why are you keeping me alive?"

"I feel you will be useful to me."

She huffed and turned her back on him, "_Useful?_ All I want to do is kill you." Even if she couldn't kill him, she refused to be of any help to him.

He grabbed her by the waist and turned her to face him. She struggled to push away but he was too strong, "Also, I believe under all of your rage, all your vengefulness, and all your hate lies a good person—the girl that so long ago, enchanted me with her dancing."

She looked away, her anger melting into sadness. She had been very evil, but in her mind it was justified. She lost her family so she took away Selendrile's mate. She had been so wronged by Moshire and now he was holding her as the human that had held her before when she needed comfort.

"No, I loathe you and I shall always loathe you, dragon of the shining sun."


	3. The Discovery

He stared at her, deciding what to say that would at least allow him to reason with her. His words from before had produced his desired outcome—she no longer wanted to follow him. Now he couldn't decide what to say to reverse that outcome. He knew Alys to be stubborn, and that made it even harder. If she were just a silly bar wench or simple peasant girl, a sweet whisper would carry her back to him with a smile.

"I don't expect you to trust me," he lied, only to make her think she was right. "But you must _believe_ me when I tell you that you are not safe while in these lands. You must let me protect you."

Alys shook her head, "To let you protect me would require my trust."

She wasn't making this easy.

"Alys…"

"Why do you care? Since when do you _care_?" she interrupted throwing her crossed arms down at her sides.

He shook his head at her pertinence, and turned to walk away. He knew her all too well, that her curiosity would get the best of her and she would eventually follow him back to the others.

She knew that he would assume she would just follow willingly, like a good little Alys but she had changed. If he wouldn't answer, she didn't have to stay around to wait for it. Her feet sprinted in the opposite direction. She didn't know where she was going, but only that it would be far away from Selendrile. She pushed away branches of aqua-colored trees in her path. She ran through the giant roots of more mushroom trees, they created a series of twisted arches above her. She came to a body of water, a golden lake that sat below high bluffs. There was a chain of golden waterfalls, shimmering and flowing from as high up the bluffs she could see. She squatted down and touched the water with one of her fingers, expecting it to be magical somehow but it only felt like regular water.

If Selendrile were following her, he would have caught her easily and in mere seconds. She didn't hear him pursuing, nor had she been caught. What kind of games was he playing at? If it were really that dangerous to be alone in these lands, then it would make sense he would try to find her. She had to wonder what even made this beautiful land a dangerous place? The dragon-youths seemed nervous anyhow, especially when that mystical lady appeared out of birds. She thought dragons to be autonomous, not controlled by another. They seemed to be so powerful, how could one control that kind of untamed danger? Selendrile never mentioned anything of the sort, but of course he _never _mentioned anything in the first place.

A loud sound echoed through the sky, reverberating against the bluffs—it sounded like a bird of prey. She whipped her head around and saw a talon come at her. She threw her hands over her face as it snatched her up. The orange ground became smaller and smaller as they rose.

So Selendrile _wasn't _going to let her wander off, and she was a fool to think otherwise. She did see an amazing sight however now that she was in the air. She saw the spread of the land before her, a mixture of the bright and warm colors. The mountains, the hills, the bodies of water were all breathtaking. She heard another dragon call and glanced to the side to find yet another amazing sight. All of the dragons were flying high, and in a sort of formation. The brilliant colors of dragon scales reflected against the shine of the sun. The air was still hot but the wind cooled her face as Selendrile caught an updraft and glided further through the sky. She gasped, finally noticing there was not one sun in the sky, but two. No wonder it had been so hot. The beating of all the wings, drowned out any other sound besides an occasional dragon's call.

She spotted a structure that protruded out of the flora. It must have been large to be above those mushroom trees. And she saw it grow larger, realizing that was where this flock of dragons were flying to. Were multiple dragons even called a flock? She didn't have an adequate time to ponder that thought, as Selendrile dove low and released her onto a puffy mushroom-tree top. He transformed into human then, and instead of getting an eyeful of skin as she was used to, he was already dressed in fine human threads. A long, tan colored jacket with black breeches and boots. The jacket was gold trimmed, and his hair—which was the same color—was already pulled back. She opened her mouth to ask how that was possible but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along as they walked down the winding trunk of the tree.

She heard Lianna scream as a great white dragon screeched its arrival overhead and dropped his human cargo into a deep pool of silver water. The splash reached Selendrile and Alys's toes. Lianna's arms splashed wildly as she surfaced and made her way to the edge of the pool, swearing in a very unladylike manner.

She was sopping wet as she stood before them, the frill of her undergarments were now slicked to her form. Willyr appeared, also in highbred threads. He had a well-kept smirk on his face while he adjusted the cravat around his neck. Lianna marched up to him with a glower, ready to pummel him for picking such a wet landing spot for her.

"YOU! You could at least have used some tact as your prince had!"

"Tell the air to dry you and all shall be well," Willyr grabbed her hands when she tried using them to throttle him.

She stopped, intrigued, "How am I supposed to _tell _the air?"

Willyr sighed, "Dry her."

A warm gust of wind swirled around them and Lianna gasped. She stood away from Willyr feeling her clothes for they were as before she was dropped into the water. Willyr smiled slightly and turned to Selendrile, "Shall we go now?"

"Go where?" Alys demanded to know.

Selendrile frowned and faced her, "Stay here. Stay low. Don't talk to anyone until we come back. Am I clear?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, wanting to sass him—to refuse. The look in his eyes told her it would be unwise.

She let out a breath, "Fine."

"Same to you," he regarded Lianna. She nodded in compliance, but threw a worried glance at Alys. She wasn't so sure Alys would stay where told.

Willyr and Selendrile walked away from them, up a tier of stairs that led to a big palace. It might have been as large as the imperial one. Although, many trees shaded the path to the entrance and surrounded the structure.

"How did they dress so fast? Where did they get such elegant clothing?" Lianna asked.

"He transformed, and when he did he was _wearing_ clothes already," Alys recalled what she had seen, and it was strange he never did it in her world. _Maybe it wasn't because he didn't want to--maybe it was that he couldn't._

They sat around the pool of water in wait, watching their own reflections ripple lazily in the silvery surface. They watched, as many other forms of fey walked past on the court path. They wore grand clothing, some had gossamer-looking wings that shaped from their shoulder blades and fell along their backs.

"Fairies," Alys whispered to Lianna. Lianna nodded and stared at the beautiful creatures dumbfounded at their existence.

"I always though they would be tiny."

"Well the dragons can change shape, I'll bet the fairies can change size too," Alys answered logically.

"This land is so strange—the wind can be commanded, there are two suns in the sky, and the colors…"

"I heard singing in my head when I first awoke."

Lianna still had a pack on her that she had been wearing when she had faded from their world. She brought out a book that Alys had never seen her carry before.

"What is that?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I found it in the library the day before last. It is written in markings I have never seen before. There is but one image…" she said and turned the ancient-looking pages until they saw the depiction of the man.

Alys's eyes widened. The man was enchanting—his handsome features seemed to leap off the page. She touched the image, just as Lianna had done when she first saw it.

"Who is he?" she breathed,

"I have no idea, maybe I would know if I could read the writing."

"He must no longer be alive, this book looks like it was written eons ago."

Lianna nodded and then noticed something she hadn't before about the image, "Look at his eyes."

Alys did, and a wave of goose bumps ran up her arms, "They are the same as the bird-woman's."

"Selendrile called her 'Lallielle.'"

"Yes, she had the same eyes as the man in this picture."

Lianna closed the book and made a grumbling noise. She knew Willyr could read the language, and she would make sure he would translate some as soon as he returned. She placed the book back into her pack.

A shadow fell across them, and they turned to see what had caused it.

"Varisca!" Lianna shouted, shocked to see her and not because they were in a different world either, she was shocked that Varisca was _alive_.

Varisca smiled condescendingly as she regarded Lianna, but when her eyes moved to Alys she paled. "You…you should be _dead._"

Alys glared at the woman and jumped up. She had so wanted to hurt this woman who had caused Selendrile pain, but that was before she knew about her blessing. Without a response or warning Alys balled her fist and heaved it into Varisca's pretty face. Varisca staggered back holding it, and cast out her hand to return damage by habit, but nothing happened. Alys saw this and continued forward for another swing.

"Alys! Stop!" Lianna cried and restrained her.

"Yes. I _should_ be dead, and you _deserve_ to be dead!" she shouted at Varisca.

"Yes, be but the simple peasant you are and cast judgment without considering all the evils dragons have done in the world!"

"Yes, I shall as long as you stay the close-minded wench that fails to see the good they are capable of!"

Both women glared at each other with utter loathing.

"Varisca, how are you still alive? I saw Moshire upon you!"

Varisca straightened her undergarments with as much dignity as she could and sniffed, "He kept me alive."

"Why ever so?"

Varisca shot a glower at the scholar and answered nonetheless, "He feels that I can be of use."

"You don't even have your powers, of what use are you?"

Varisca started towards Alys and Alys braced herself with her fists crunched, ready to fight. Lianna pushed Varisca back by her shoulder.

"Both of you calm down! You don't help our situation by fighting." Lianna felt as though she were the only adult.

Alys turned her back on them and sat by the pool of water.

"So where _is_ Moshire?"

"He had to attend a gathering of a sort in that palace. Well, I only gathered as much. He brought me here and told me not to speak to anyone."

None of the mortal women understood why it was so important they _not_ speak to any other fey.

"I wonder who lives in the palace," Lianna wondered.

Alys wondered that same thing but she had been tired of wondering and voicing it to deaf ears.

Yes. She was tired of wondering. Why wonder when she could find out for herself? She huffed and stood, marching past the other women and up the tier of stairs that led to the palace.

"Alys! You are supposed to stay here!" Lianna cried.

"What harm will it do? Telonge said no other fey could see us unless we spoke to it. So let us go into the palace to observe whatever it is they are doing, and we shall not speak and slip through unnoticed."

Lianna tilted her head, and knew Alys was being logical. Another part of Lianna was scared because Selendrile gave them orders, and she understood his orders were not to be disobeyed.

She sighed finally, "Fine."

Varisca was curious as well, and followed them up the tiers of stairs. They reached the top and saw a fabulous courtyard, the edge of it looked across a good span of the Realm. The palace was made of grey stone, and had purple ivy climbing its sides with smaller flat-mushroom head flowers surrounding the stone. There were posted guards at the doors, but these guards were ethereal women and they wore ebony armor that looked light as a feather on their forms.

"How will we slip past?" Lianna whispered behind Alys.

She was working on that. She picked up a small stone and tossed it past the guard and into the brush not but a few feet away so it made a rustling sound. It took the guardess's notice but she wasn't easily fooled, and continued guarding the door.

Alys closed her eyes and pointed to the guardess, "Blow her away."

The wind, maybe the same wind that had dried Lianna picked up with a gale like force and beat against the guardess. It blew her into the brush and that's when Alys made a run for the doors. She tugged it open with all her might and after for what seemed long minutes but was actually mere seconds, the door opened and all three women slipped through.

Alys tripped, and Lianna fell on her. No one noticed their commotion for a slough of fey-like creatures were all staring at the center of the room.

There was Selendrile and his magnificent seven. They were all dressed in grand clothes, looking handsome, as they should. Everyone was in a human-sized shape for the room would not hold eight dragons.

They had to move closer to see what was happening. They were being addressed, well—chastised by a man who was sitting at the throne. He was remarkable looking.

"You left the Realm, that is but the one rule I set when I brought us here and you broke it. What should I do with you?"

"I had to leave," Selendrile stated coldly, but a trace of nervousness was evident in his features.

"NO!" The man was through with being patient.

"Who is that man?" Alys whispered.

"Whatever he is, he is not a man—well a _human_ man at least." Lianna gasped.

Alys saw him as approached Selendrile. He looked a little bit like Selendrile—in the features at least. They were the same height, looked the same age. Though Alys knew age was never true as far as looks went within the fey world. He had black hair, but just as long. His eyes—they were the same as Lallielle's. They both sucked in a sharp gasp, realizing _he_ was the one depicted in the book's illustration.

"Don't you realize how wonderful this Realm is? It is far away from the humans and their mundane and bloodthirsty world. Yet you escape to that wretched place. Maybe I should just transform you all to humans permanently and banish you there since you like it so much."

"No," Willyr softly objected.

"Then how am I to deal with you?"

"You know why I left, and you know it's your fault," Selendrile stuck his chin out defiantly.

The black-haired one must have been the one that owned everything. He glared fiercely at Selendrile and pointed at him, "Or maybe I should just destroy you as you've caused me enough trouble since I brought you here."

"YOU CANNOT DO IT!" Selendrile stepped forward and taunted, furious about something. He belted out those words with such raw anger, Alys could feel them tear through her chest. She was very annoyed with Selendrile at the moment but was _not _ready to see him be destroyed.

"STOP!" She shouted, scrambling through the crowd.

She found herself in the middle of the owner and Selendrile. Just like before she appeared there, she was between him and Varisca. _Why_ _do I keep on saving him_?

The owner gazed right at her, surprised at first, but then his amazing face changed to something she couldn't understand. The equivalent to Selendrile's dragon-look. A small wind tumbled through her hair and then that singing started up. That seductive singing only she could hear.

_What will become of my dear friend?_

_Where will his actions lead us then?_

_Although I'd like to join the crowd._

_In their enthusiastic cloud._

_Try as I may it doesn't last._

_And will we ever, end up together?_

_No I think not. It's never to become._

_For I am not the one._

She breathed in a gasp, not worried about the singing but the owner. He was right beside her, too close, with his face buried into her neck, breathing in her scent.

He snapped open his eyes and stared at Selendrile with a keen smile, also placing a tightened grip on Alys's forearm.

"ALYS!" Selendrile shouted, but she didn't hear his anger, which was what she assumed he would be. She turned to see that his eyes were wide and they feared for her. He was warning her.

"A _human_. You should know better, Selendrile."

"Let me go!" Alys demanded and tried prying him off but he didn't even notice.

Selendrile didn't dare make a move to help her, not while the owner had a hold of her. The owner and Selendrile were exchanging looks, silently fighting one another.

Before she could stop herself she screamed "LATHANDRIAN! LATHANDRIAN! LATHANDRIAN!" not knowing what she was even saying, although it brought his attention back to her. The whole court was staring at her, now noticing her for good. She would never be unnoticed by them now. They looked at her like she was a loony.

He wasn't though. He looked down on her with yet, another look she couldn't understand. He shifted his grasp so that he was holding her by her hand gently. His face was close and now had a genuine smile. His beauty was so thrilling that her heart leapt at his touch, and from his gaze that searched through her. He kissed her hand, as a gentleman would.

"_I _am Lathandrian. Welcome to my Realm."

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A/N: Yay new chapter! But you knew that…so how do you like it? Is it exciting enough?


	4. The Posession

A/N: So, its four chapters too late but I should probably say that I don't own Alys or Selendrile because they belong to VVV. All rest is mine though! :D

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"ALYS!" Selendrile shouted again, seeing that she had become transfixed upon the divine. His hopes were to shake her concentration. She ignored him. All she could see was Lathandrian, as his eyes demanded she look upon him.

Lathandrian had surprised everyone in the room by not destroying the human girl outright. It was just expected he do it, after all that he preached against humans.

"I'm Alys," She introduced herself with a smile and an off-balance curtsy, not even sensing the danger she was in.

"What a fascinating creature," Lathandrian mused and his eyes suddenly danced around her. She was not the most beautiful human he had ever seen, but there was a quality in her that intrigued him—and _that_ was the reason he refrained from destroying her.

"ALYS!" Selendrile tried once again, now even more desperate to reach her. If Lathandrian wasn't to kill her, he was apt to do something more terrible.

She finally looked at Selendrile with annoyance. _What does he want from me? I am of no use to him anymore!_

Lathandrian released her hand, taking a step toward Selendrile.

"By my right I should have destroyed you for your disobedience, however I will not—"

Selendrile's eyes narrowed suspiciously, he knew Lathandrian well enough to know that he wanted to bargain for something, "What do you want?"

"A certain possession."

"Pray, tell what is this _possession_?"

A flick of Lathandrian's eyes towards Alys was all it took to send Selendrile into a rage. He started towards the divine with intent to harm him. Moshire and Telonge restrained him as they knew his intent was not a wise decision. He shouted then, "Never! You shall not!"

Lathandrian smiled slyly, "If you do not comply, I still can destroy all of you nonetheless."

"Why are you even asking me then?" Selendrile hissed.

A malice rose into Lathandrian's eyes, "Just to hear you say it."

Selendrile looked to Alys and swallowed. His eyes fell to the ground when she stared back at him with a mix of annoyance and puzzlement.

He should have kept his promise to himself—to never bring her to the Realm. However, at that last moment before the fade, he realized that _she_ was his weakness. She had once again saved him from death, and in doing so was helpless as she lay there, near her own death if not for his blessing. All those long months with her proved that he could feel again—he _felt_ for her. He clung to her and brought her to the Realm although he knew what ill fates would befall them all at the hands of Lathandrian.

Selendrile shook his head—he would not say what Lathandrian wanted to hear and let him receive the pleasure of hearing him relinquish his treasure. He closed his eyes with a face full of defeat and nodded, understanding Lathandrian was the one with the power. He had created the fey, and he had created a world for them; he could destroy them all as well. He could have whatever he wanted and now Alys was added to that list.

"So it is," Lathandrian smiled, even though Selendrile had given a silent permission. Lathandrian always loved getting his way. He clapped his hands and called, "Back to before!"

The crowd dissipated. Some vanished outright, into thin air while others walked out of the great room. Only the dragons, human, and divine remained.

"I trust now that you have returned you shall continue your rule over the dark fey. They have been leaderless these past centuries." Lathandrian spoke to Selendrile, grinning as if nothing were amiss, as if he had not taken from the golden dragon yet _again_. "Your throne is still in the hall of darkness, I suggest you return there and not be troublesome any longer, _O Prince_."

Selendrile grumbled and bowed in compliance. His councel followed his leave.

"Now," they heard Lathandrian say as he turned to face Alys, "As for you…"

Selendrile gritted his teeth together, he was outraged as well as he should have been.

"Selendrile," Telonge tried to give reassurance that the situation did not hold.

The Prince of dragons wasn't fooled, "I can _never_ reclaim her, Telonge! _Never_! Do not try to pretend all is well as Lathandrian would have you believe for it is _not_. I would be dead before I could reach her."

Telonge sighed, and with it all his laughter and joy went too. "At least you can still look upon her."

Selendrile gave a derisive snort, "Yes, look upon her as our lord and master increasingly bewitches her. He will use her as his play thing only, and when he is bored, will drive her into madness."

His counsel was silent as they remembered the last time it had happened. They could do nothing for Alys.

Selendrile was standing before the ebony doors that led to the hall of darkness—it had been so long since he had walked the hallways there. He laid his fingers on the handle and sighed, "I cannot let him do that."

"Alys is a strong-willed human, she can resist him," Willyr tried to present yet more false hope.

Selendrile shook his head and then pulled open the door, "Perhaps she could, but I doubt she _wants _to resist him, let alone try to."

Selendrile knew she would easily succumb to the charms of Lathandrian because nothing was stopping her. Perhaps if she had still trusted the Prince of dragons she would have a reason to resist Lathandrian's will. For the first time ever, he regretted his words—the lie he had spoken so smoothly to the girl to save her, was now the lie that separated them, and vanquished all the trust she had for him.

The dragon-youths looked at each other, wanting to argue that Alys wasn't _that _foolish but they all saw the look of attraction in her eyes when she first saw Lathandrian.

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"What should I address you as?" Alys asked the divine standing before her.

He was close, seeming to look her over—and becoming more and more pleased by the moment.

"By my name, it is all you need to speak, dear Alys."

She shivered at the way his voice said her name, she liked it and giggled outwardly.

He raised a brow at her behavior and told her to follow him.

_You should never follow strange males without question, why are you acting like so? _the sensible part of her mind asked her.

She didn't know—and that should have worried her.

He stopped in front of a doorand opened it for her, "You may stay here as long as you like, and I hope you find it is to your liking."

Her jaw dropped open at the bedroom before her. For it was the grandest place she had ever seen. Windows that were as tall as the wall were placed in a row so that the twin sunlight shined through and filled the whole room, there were silky curtains tied to the side, and a huge bed—it looked like it could fit four to five people—that had matching sheets and a pile of pillows.

She let out a happy cry and dove into the pillows.

"This is wonderful! This is a wonderful room!" She smiled as she hugged one of the soft pillows and fell into the mattress, "This is a wonderful bed."

"As it should be, for it is _my_ bed."

Alys sat up startled, "Then why am _I_ to sleep in it?"

"I am a divine—I don't _need_ to sleep for I never get tired."

She was bewildered, "Then why do you even _have_ a bed?"

He chuckled and threw himself next to her on the bed and laid leisurely with his head propped up on his elbow—staring intently, "Dear Alys, don't you know that beds are used for more than just _sleep_?"

She blushed and looked away. Of course she knew! She wasn't a fool.

She felt his fingers graze her back, across her shoulder blade—it sent another wave of shivers through her. "Poor girl, I see you have _never_ shared a bed."

She twisted around, "I _have_ shared a bed! I've shared a bed with Selendrile _and _Lianna!"

"Who is Lianna?" he grinned.

Alys almost choked, remembering he couldn't see Lianna. "She is...is like an older sister to me."

He must not have cared to hear further about Lianna, and Alys was glad he didn't ask.

"And what is Selendrile to you?"

She whirled around with a frown, "He is a liar."

"Ah," was all Lathandrian had to say about that. She hadn't answered his question though.

"Then why did you throw yourself in front of us after I threatened to destroy him?"

She kept her frown, but admitted, "I may dislike him but I would never want to see him destroyed."

She wanted to forget about Selendrile for awhile.

The suns' afternoon heat was beating into the room and causing perspiration to form on her skin. She removed herself from the bed and studied the view outside of the windows. She could see the courtyard below and also, a grand view of the Realm. There was a balcony outside the windows and a door that was disguised as a window if not for its handle, so she pulled it open.

The air was simmering hot but she smiled nonetheless.

"Cool me," she whispered and held out her arms. The breeze picked up and seemed to plant her with cool and damp kisses. She smiled and twirled at her ability to command the air. What a wondrous place it was!

Lathandrian watched Alys, and could see the beauty that mortal men had all but ignored—her brown locks were tousled and in front of her eyes which were closed as her body turned about. Her laughter was genuine, her smile was honest, and the look in her eyes when they opened was that of a want—a longing for someone to notice her and satisfy her curiosities. He smiled, knowing he could oblige.

Lathandrian rolled over onto his stomach but kept his sly eyes on her. "He is a liar because I made him that way."

She stopped twirling, "What do you mean?"

He was only too happy to widen his eyes innocently and ask her, "He never told you?"

_This again? Why does everyone assume Selendrile would tell me anything?!_

She just shook her head no, and sighed.

"He must keep a lot from you," he noted, as if reading her mind.

"Yes. He never tells me anything."

"Would you like to know everything?"

Her eyes lit up then, with the possibility that all her questions be answered. It would be the greatest feeling in the world to not be burdened with a crushing curiosity. She nodded.

There was mischief behind his smile now, "Very well but I will need something from you."

"Anything," she nodded and crawled onto the bed to be nearer—as if what he would tell would be whispers of secrets that Selendrile never told her.

He suddenly pushed her over and leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Her breath seemed to abandon her, as if being sucked out by some invisible force. She could see fleeting images of Selendrile in her mind, but did not know what the images meant. Then all thoughts of him were gone. Through Lathandrian's kiss, she would be obliged to obey him and only him now that she was in his domain. She didn't know or feel the power he held over her, but only enjoyed the way his lips moved over hers.

_YOU SHOULD NEVER LET STRANGE MALES KISS YOU!_ The sensible part of her mind was screaming at her in her thoughts, but she ignored it and continued to enjoy the kiss of the divine. Besides, she was in a nonsensical place, and to act nonsensical was only acceptable. Why should she worry? Lathandrian seemed more trustworthy than any _dragon_. Also, he had looked upon her in a way that no other had—with desire, and she was curious about him as well.

He withdrew his kiss and smiled ever so charmingly. She returned the smile. He would tell her everything for the price of a kiss; it seemed like a good bargain. "Tell me everything."

"I _created_ him. He was not born, but made from the shadows of the darkness, the richness of greed, and the secrets of death." He sounded proud, "He was to unite the rest of the dragons and fight as a warrior. They took well to him—I daresay most would follow him to their deaths."

Alys was reminded of the other dragon-youths and their long search for their prince and had to agree silently.

"So how can you command such a creature as Selendrile?"

"That's easy. I created him, and I can destroy him just as well…"

"But he said you couldn't do it, I heard him!"

Lathandrian frowned slightly, "He was being arrogant and trying my patience. He knows I can destroy him and sometimes I really do believe he wants me to."

Alys's thoughts receded sadly, feeling so out of place all of a sudden. She laid down into the cool sheets and saw it was no longer day. Where had it disappeared to so fast? Instead there was a dark purple sky, with threads of pinkish light and it was illuminated with a sprinkling of stars.

"It's beautiful," she smiled, appreciating the beauty of it all.

Lathandrian nodded in agreement, although he was not looking at the sky but the human by his side. "Yes, it really is."


	5. The Disturbance

The Hall of darkness actually consisted of more than one room. It was a series of great rooms—caverns—that were carved into a mountain behind the great palace of Lathandrian. It was the lair of the dragons, and literally was very dark there for the twin suns' shine could not break through the mountain. The only light came from dull torches that hung to the side and usually were blown out from the cool mountainous wind.

Selendrile occupied the grandest room, for he was meant to be grandest of all the dark fey. He had changed into his sleek dragon form, and was sleeping off the pain and frustrations he had encountered in the past weeks—with Alys on his mind. He was continually cursing himself for bringing her there, Lathandrian for taking her, and Alys herself for not trusting him anymore, which led him right back to cursing himself for lying to her in the first place.

He had sent his counsel away for they could not console him while he brooded.

He rolled onto his side, stretched his neck and yawned.

The doors to the hall of darkness blew open then, he started up with a growl at the disturbance. Light poured in and illuminated the grand architecture of the cavern room.

A dancing, silver light swirled around him, tickling, teasing and he transformed at once to get away from it. He wore the same clothes as he did before. "How dare you come here!" he shouted with a hint of annoyance.

There was a laugh, tinkling and musical sounding—not at all worried about the venom in his voice. The silver light shimmered into a beautiful young female with glassy looking wings along her back.

"Oh Selendrile, why not? You've returned after centuries of absence!" She sat on his throne chair with her legs slung over the arms of it—leaning back to show the length of her body and staring at him with the intent to seduce for she was good at it. She was a lovely faerie, with pouting lips and raven hair but that deceit behind her crystal blue eyes was not worth touching.

"And even _then_ I did not want your company. Why are you here Aura? There is nothing for you in the hall of darkness. Go back to the light."

She moved herself to a proper sitting position and smoothed out her silky coverings, "You might have changed your mind—you were gone for so long."

He grabbed the princess of faerie by her wrist and not without an irate roughness, "I promise you upon my Draconian blood I will _never_ love you, and Lathandrian was a fool to put such thoughts into your tiny brain. Be gone!"

"Sasinna is dead!" she cried with a delight that froze his blood. He stopped just as he was about to throw her out of the room, back into the light. "She is _dead_ Selendrile, so what is keeping you from loving me now?"

He didn't answer but looked away sadly, she had hit a nerve. She was an ill mannered faerie and it was beyond Selendrile to why Lathandrian allowed her to rule the ranks of the light fey.

"It's that _human_ isn't it?" her pretty mouth turned to a sneer, realizing. "Yet _another_ mortal you wish to call your own? Forget that, Lathandrian will never give her his blessing now. You have crossed him badly."

He glared at her and to that she just smiled slyly, "She'll be gone soon as well."

Selendrile threw her to the floor with an angry shout. She was curled into a ball but only laughed at his anger. She looked up to him and wiped off a spot of blood that contrasted vividly against her pale skin.

The doors to the hall opened once more and both heard the sounds of a small black bird going '_peep. peep.'_ The light from the outer world was increasingly snuffed out as the entryway filled with many more little blackbirds, hopping on top of one another to create a form.

The woman appeared calm and cold before them, the Parrain messenger of Lathandrian.

She looked down to Aura and frowned, "Leave us, _faerie_."

Aura's eyes widened in fear and she disappeared at once into a shimmering silver light that whirled out through the doors.

Lallielle brought her arms together and the doors closed, leaving the golden prince and her alone in the shadows. She shook her head, "You shouldn't let Aura get to you."

"Why is she so fearful of _you_?" he wondered. He was much more threatening than a Parra.

She smiled slightly, "I threatened to tear her wings off if she crossed me."

He almost smiled at the thought of it happening, but frowned nonetheless for there was only one reason she could have been there.

"What do you need? What message does _Lathandrian_ wish to pass?"

"I come to tell you my own message," her smile faded, "You do remember I was _your_ messenger before you abandoned us?"

Selendrile nodded, but with bitterness, and ignored her verbal stab of '_abandon_', "Yes, but he had already taken you for his own, just like everything else. So why should I care if you decided to switch services?"

She shook her head, and a piece of blonde hair fell in front of one eye "Selendrile, since you've been gone…"

He noticed the waver in her voice and his attention was fully on her. She was not a creature to be easily disturbed. He had always trusted Lallielle, for she was the one who kept secrets, and relayed messages for him many centuries ago. She had been in his service for eons before Lathandrian had set his eyes upon her.

"What is wrong?"

"Lathandrian has become dangerous. He is no longer the divine he used to be—his moods change as often as the winds, and he takes enjoyment in others' suffering."

"You _now_ notice this? He was like that before I even left! It is one reason _why_ I left." He settled himself onto his throne seat.

"He never harmed any of us though, not like this…" she spoke quietly and held out her arm. She lifted back the black feathers of her sleeve.

Selendrile saw that her inner arm had deep red scars, criss-crossing every which way—scars that came from wounds that could have only been inflicted by Lathandrian himself.

"What did you do?"

"I refused him."

"And he did _this_?"

She nodded and pulled her sleeve down again, also swiping her hair out of her eye and back into place.

"Not just to I either—a number of us bear these wounds for the slightest disobedience to him. Before you left a refusal might warrant angry taunting, or guilt-tripping, but never _violence_."

"Do you suppose he turned to this because of my absence?"

She bit her lip but he could see in her eyes that she did think it so. It was forbidden to leave the Realm, which was the one absolute rule that Lathandrian had set in the beginning—and Selendrile had broken it. Everyone in the Realm knew that Selendrile was Lathandrian's most prized fey creation. That's why even when in human forms they looked similar. Selendrile was perfect—a perfect warrior, a perfect leader, and proved to be an even more perfect lover—which led Lathandrian to corrupt the opposite party.

_"Sasinna,"_

_She was sitting quietly on the edge of the courtyard, her feet dangling above the valley and lakes below. It was her spot, she had sat there many times before to see the suns set. He had not seen her for some time, which was odd. They spent a great deal of time together so it worried Selendrile when she never returned to their lair the night before. She turned her head at her name but her face was changed, not smiling as usual at the sight of him._

_"My prince," she spoke quiet and it was not like her at all. He knew something was wrong._

_He took a seat next to her, and the breeze was colder than usual. His hand found hers and he gave her a gentle smile, hoping it would coax her troubles to her lips and he may comfort her. She had a peculiar essence radiating from her, it was bittersweet._

_"I have missed you these past days… where have you been?"_

_She tilted her head and a crazed, but defeated look reached into her green eyes. "Lathandrian."_

_His grip was lost on her hand. He looked at her intently, for Lathandrian was nothing but a rogue around beautiful females, "What business did you have with him?"_

_She looked back toward the Realm, not saying more. _

_A smooth male voice behind them uttered "I had business with her."_

_Suddenly he could sense it—the same fresh and bittersweet essence wrapped around his mate's body was also behind them. _

_Selendrile was on his feet in a second, anger and shock registered on his face as he stared at the divine. "What have you done?"_

_Lathandrian smiled cunningly, "I was appreciating your treasurers."_

_Selendrile's face crashed into heartbreak, and that's what threw Sasinna into a crazed rage. She shouted, "I cannot stay here any longer!"_

That day, and her words would forever be trapped in his mind.

Lallielle stayed quiet as he remembered, but coughed to bring his attention back. She said urgently, "There is more."

"What?"

"He vanquished all of the Parra."

This was an utter shock to Selendrile, "_Why?_ What about you?"

"I don't know why he kept me as much as I don't know why he vanquished the others, but Selendrile…" There was a real horror in her strange eyes. "I _fear_ for my existence every waking minute."

She was the last existing Parra.

Parras were bird-like creatures that Lathandrian had created. They were associated with the dark fey. They could separate themselves into many different birds at once so as to be in different places at all times, and then reform into a human shape when they merged again. They were useful as spies and messengers, but Lathandrian—for his own reasons—must have had them vanquished during Selendrile's leave; all except Lallielle.

She was a rather remarkable creature—stealthy, beautiful, and did her job well. It wasn't hard to imagine why Lathandrian had kept her alive. It was rare to see emotion in a Parra, and Lallielle was clearly shaken into hopelessness.

"He is calling for me," she whispered, and held out her arms to dismantle her form. They both knew she shouldn't dally.

Selendrile stood and touched her shoulder in sympathy, "I will make sure you do not follow your kindred's fate, Lallielle. For now, just do as he says as not to provoke him and I will find a way to order you back into my service."

She gave him a look of gratitude before transforming into several little black birds, all _peeping_ as they flew away. He hoped she would live yet another day, and she would because she was a survivor. He shuddered at the image of her scars though.

Selendrile would have liked to put a stop to all of Lathandrian's madness, but it was known that a divine was invincible to his or her creations, and on top of that fact, wielded a great power. Lathandrian had created everything in the Realm, and all of the fey creatures. A fey creature could do nothing to end its own creator. Selendrile was at a loss on what to do, and he could feel it wouldn't be long until Alys was lost to him completely.

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A/N: Are you curious? You should be.


	6. The Overlook

She had forgotten where she was. All Alys knew was that the bed was as soft as a dream, the pillows were light as what she wished clouds could be, and the silky sheets were smooth against her skin. The body pressed against her was warm and his arm that was slung around her waist was possessive. Then she remembered where she was.

She started up, seeing that she was without her undergarments, and pulled the sheets close to her body. She stared down at him—he was sleeping, his black locks were tousled and he was shirtless, the sheets covered him from the waist down.

_You should never sleep with strange males, especially without any clothes_ the sensible part of her lectured but had partially given up for she hadn't listened to it once since she entered the Realm.

"I thought…I thought you couldn't sleep?" she asked awkwardly, only the first of many questions that were barraging her mind.

Lathandrian grinned and opened one eye, "I didn't say I _couldn't_ sleep. I merely don't _need_ to, and that doesn't mean I can't partake in the activity all together."

"What happened? What did you do to me? Did you…?" she shrilly asked with a blush.

Both of his eyes opened innocently and he sat up so his back was against the headboard, which shifted the sheets slightly further down his waist, which revealed he was wearing nothing as well. Alys's blush deepened so her face was nearly a tomato.

"Not at all," he assured and turned onto his side, "It _is _my bed after all, so that is the reason I'm here. You are here because you are my guest, and it's such a big bed. I think it would be a waste of bed to find you another one, no?"

"What about my clothes? What about yours?!" she demanded, holding the sheets tight against her.

"They are removed because it is very hot in the Realm right now, and we wouldn't want to get overheated now do we? That and…" his odd gaze turned to that look she couldn't understand.

"What?!"

"I had to see if you were _safe_."

"What does that mean?"

"None of your concern."

He saw the worry in her eyes at the truth of his words. He smiled gently and kissed her. His fingers played along the skin of her back, sending involuntary tingles of delight through her. When he was done, he whispered against her ear, "I promise you, dear Alys, that I never touched you, for if I had you would be feeling sore right now."

She let out a breath and nodded, believing the truth.

Lathandrian turned down the covers and left the bed, he stretched his body in the dawn's light. Alys tried not to watch, but there was something—a force—that _demanded _her to notice all his perfections. He snapped his fingers and was clothed suddenly, wearing a loose cotton shirt, black jacket, and laced breeches. She looked down and saw she was suddenly wearing a robe made from the same translucent material as the sheets and curtains.

"Something a little more decent if you will!" she snapped.

He frowned, "You wish to hide your lovely form? Why not let me appreciate it?"

She blushed again, "I have modesty."

"Oh," he said, and sounded rather bored. He snapped the fingers of one hand and her robe was replaced with a beautiful opaque dress, but it was still light and silky to the touch.

"Thank you," she said.

"Humans," he sighed, "Sometimes I forget."

That phrase rang in her memory, of words that someone said a time ago in a distant world when she was alone.

He held out his arm for her to take, "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she mumbled as she slipped her arm through his.

"Very well, I shall treat you to a magnificent breakfast with malumtarts and dulcicakes, with bibomead to wash it away.

Alys didn't know if he was listing foods or what. She had never heard of such things before. They descended a staircase into the room she had seen the previous day, crossed there and found themselves in an adjoining room with a table filled with all manner of foods.

"How did it all get there so fast?"

"It's my will, it's my way," he purred and sat himself at the end.

She sat next to him as it didn't make sense to sit all the way at the other end. "I suppose you don't _have_ to eat either?"

He snapped his fingers and their plates filled with portions of the delicious smelling food, "Of course not, but I do like the taste of things."

She was amazed at his abilities, he must have had a great deal of power to have created everything and still manage do complete everyday tasks with the snap of his fingers.

"Are you a god?" she asked because she wasn't quite sure. Did the attribute of '_divine_' mean what she thought it did?

He stopped chewing, and swallowed, looking at her carefully—considering her question. Finally he answered, "More or less."

She took his answer and began to eat. They were silent as they consumed breakfast. It bothered Alys. "Why are we the only ones here?"

"You wish for company?" he raised his brows, clapped his hands together and suddenly every seat at the table was filled. Faeries, they seemed puzzled at first but then saw the sweet foods and helped their selves, chattering to one another. The chatter was undecipherable since so much of it was going on all at once.

"How do you like it here?" The faerie on her left asked.

"Oh, uh, it is very lovely,"

"Have you seen the Halls of light yet? You should, for it is splendid," a male faerie next to the other spoke and pointed some sort of muffin at her. Then a group of faeries surrounded her as she was strange to them, for they hadn't seen a mortal since before the Realm. They naturally wanted to cause her mischief, to cause her head to spin.

"Don't mind _them_, they only want to take you there and get you lost," one particularly beautiful female faerie with black hair entered their group, they _parted _for her. Her voice had a lovely lilt to it. She took Alys's hand and smiled broadly, "_We_ should be friends, _best_ friends."

Lathandrian noticed the malice in her smile and pulled a naive Alys out of her grasp. "I don't think so, Aura."

Aura pouted her pretty lips with a huff but still held a glint of mischief and grandeur in her crystal blue eyes. She smiled again, with a new thought forming in her face, "Selen—,"

Lathandrian at once blew a breath of air at her, like he was blowing out a candle, and the faeries vanished. They could hear the echoing of Aura's screams filled with malcontent. Alys looked around for any sign of them and her eyes landed on him. He looked bothered, and was not at all smiling in that charming way of his.

"What did she _do_?"

He stood abruptly and swiped his plate off the table; it made a loud clattering sound. He was upset, apparently. He braced his arms on the sides of the chair she was sitting in, staring down at her with a glare. "Listen to me, now. Do not speak of him, do not hear of him, and do not even think of him for I shall know if you do. If you do, it will be an ill mistake."

His voice sounded so dangerous, it raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She didn't say anything for she didn't know _what _to say, much less know what he was babbling about. There was a madness in his eyes that was not to be contested with.

"DO YOU HEAR ME!?" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders so hard, his thumbs might have left bruises.

She pushed him away, or he was rather done lecturing her for he let go. She shrunk into the seat, to be as small as possible.

"Who?! Who are you talking about?!"

He straightened up with a sly smile, "Exactly."

---

After breakfast, and after Lathandrian's nonsensical tantrum, Alys was left in the courtyard. Lathandrian told her he had some business to attend to but would be back to claim her later. She peered down the overlook to see the silver pool that Willyr had dropped Lianna in the previous day.

_Where is Lianna?_ She suddenly wondered. She didn't think to look for her after the scene that unfolded in the great room. She trusted Lianna could take care of herself or at least _Willyr_ could keep a good watch over her while they were in these lands.

Now that Alys thought of it, she rather did not want to return to her old world. There was nothing left for her there, and besides, here she was treated like a princess. She dangled her feet off the edge of the overlook, and enjoyed the suns' warmth, and it didn't seem as hot as the day before. She wondered what it would be like to swim in the colored pools of water, or sit under one of the falls she had seen. There was so much to explore in this world, so many new things, and new magic.

She spotted a black speck in the sky; it was far but seeming to grow—coming closer. She realized it was a small black bird. It wobbled as it landed, fell to the stone breathing heavily. Its eyes watched her suspiciously as she gently petted the soft feathers of the little bird.

"Poor birdie,"

Two more black birds landed next to her from another direction, they _peeped_ sadly at their friend and sat near it to comfort it. Alys tensed as more birds came, remembering the instance of how they formed a lady. She scooted away and the birds did merge together, into a huddled shape. The blonde woman's black feathered gown was tattered, and she was clutching her arm, wincing in pain.

"Miss?" Alys gasped, seeing the lady was in trouble.

"You…you must not let him _control_ you, _escape_, you _must_ escape," she said strained, urgently, and all the while rocking back and forth. Alys could see the arm she was clutching was drenched in a black substance, a liquid with the consistency of blood, and there were crossed hash marks, fresh in her skin. She turned her head to face Alys and Alys screamed outwardly for the lady's tears _were_ blood, streaking red trails down her face. She cried blood and bled black. The strange eyes rolled back and closed. She collapsed onto the overlook. There was silence.

Alys wondered briefly if the lady were dead, but ruled it out for she was still breathing, albeit shakily. Then she wondered what the lady had been talking about. She was a lovely looking person, and it was a shame for her to be abused so.

There came a great beating in the wind, and a large shadow fell across them both. A silver scaled dragon who had heard their cries landed in the courtyard next them. His shape immediately transformed to that of Aerend, dragon of the blowing winds. Aerend was wearing regular gentleman's clothes and he stared at Lallielle's form with an overwhelming sadness in his diamonded eyes.

"By the divine," he breathed and kneeled beside her," Lallielle what has happened to you?"

She managed to cry a high pitched wail.

"Help her!" Alys shouted desperately.

Aerend looked at Alys sharply, "_I_ can do nothing for her."

A great sinking feeling rose in Alys's chest, was he to let her die then? She felt tears form in the corners of her eyes, in mourning for this pretty creature she didn't even know.

"But I know someone who can," he said with a determination. He easily picked Lallielle off the ground while she whimpered in pain.

"Easy there love, I've got you," he spoke with a soft calm to reassure her it was going to be alright. She clung to his neck, her red tears staining his shirt as she still clutched her arm. With an awful cry, Aerend changed to dragon and took off, his wings beating fast and furiously with her body cradled in his claw. Alys stared at the sky, watching them disappear into nothing but a silver blob. She hoped Lallielle would be alright. Something caught her eye that was flying just above her—a dark object—it lazily floated downward until it landed on her shoulder. She pulled it off to look at it—a ravaged black feather.

She shivered as the wind picked up and sang seductively through her head—

_They say the Devil's water, it ain't so sweet._

_You don't have to drink right now._

_But you can dip your feet,_

_Every once and a little while._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Yay for summer, for if this was the school year three updates in one week would be impossible.


	7. The Powerless

The day was warm, the wind was slight, and yet Varisca sat most sourly for she was trapped in a strange land without her power, and with a creature she despised with all of her being. Moshire swooped in low and dropped a carcass of a mutilated animal Varisca couldn't recognize—it was meant for eating. With one look at the spattered mess of fur and blood, it took her appetite away for the rest of the day.

"You should really have something to eat," he lectured after transforming.

"I've had food already."

"The sweet berries from the bushes will not satisfy you fully, you will grow weak without meat."

She really didn't care what he had to say or thought about her eating habits.

"I'm fine," she glared, setting herself upon a fallen branch of mushroom-tree. He was rather annoying and vague, yet still had the mannerisms of Soleric that she wanted to put out of her mind, but couldn't help to notice--his charming smile and that undeniable feeling of safety and comfort while in his presence.

He shrugged and started tearing through the animal's flesh, removing the fur with his hands. She felt her stomach rise and turned away as not to see the carnage.

"Why are we here? Don't you have a home? A place to live instead of out here in the wilderness?" she asked annoyed, gesturing to the flora around them. She had to spend the night under his close watch, on the uncomfortable ground.

"I have a lair, yes," he replied.

"Then why aren't we _there_?"

He paused, but only for a second, and then continued separating the fur without a response.

She did look at him then, to decipher his silence. Her brows rose, suddenly understanding. "He doesn't know I'm here does he? Selendrile thinks you have destroyed me."

His gaze snapped up to her, she grinned, as her words seemed to have caused him annoyance, "If he finds out I'm alive, he'll be angry with you."

"That and he will no doubt murder you on sight. Do you want to be murdered?" Moshire snapped out, which only proved her statement was the truth.

That feeling she faced so many years ago upon Luthor's doorstep returned, the wanting of death, "Why not? This is no better."

He shook his head, "His teeth would slice your limbs in half, as your blood fountains into pools before your very eyes. Your skull would be crushed as easily as dough, and you wouldn't even have time to scream for mercy under his jaw."

The images placed into her head by him, only made her less hungry.

"This probably should be fired before you consume it," he mentioned towards the hunks of meat he had pulled out of the carcass.

"What is it?"

"Stag meat."

He had made a fire the day before, by breaking down a mushroom-tree with his dragon tail, and then igniting it by releasing a torrent of his fire breath. The mushroom head must have been a good source of fuel, for here it was still burning nearly a day later.

He threw the pieces onto the fire where the fat of the animal crackled, but the smell was delicious, causing a hungry change her stomach. He grinned at her face of want—her tongue barely licked her bottom lip and her eyes widened at the cooking meat.

He took a seat next to her, but she scooted an arm's length away.

"Do you fear me?"

"No," she lied.

He slid closer, "Really?"

She moved away yet again, and stuck her chin out, "Of course, I fear nothing."

"YAAAH!" he shouted and waved his arm at her, she screamed and fell off the branch onto her back only to hear him laughing loudly, as if that were the funniest thing he had seen in centuries.

She cursed and scrambled up, only giving him a deathly glare, "You're despicable."

"Yet you lusted after me for months, and shivered when my lips touched your body. I doubt your claim."

She blushed but still kept her glare. She didn't want to honor his cheap shot with a response. She could have called him a liar, or claim it was all his dragon charm, but she clenched her jaw and looked away.

His laughter subsided and after awhile he handed her a stick with skewered pieces of cooked meat. She wanted to refuse it but her stomach grumbled in disapproval of that thought. She sighed and accepted it. She did not thank him.

He was watching her—she could just feel it, and almost see the way his topaz eyes moved and squinted in consideration. Her every move was of interest to him, after all she still loathed him and wanted his head, but was powerless to obtain it.

A sudden movement on his part drew her attention and she looked to see the cause. He had physically jerked, with an alarm in his face she had never witnessed or thought for him to possess.

"What?"

He shook his head, and swallowed, "I must go."

With a cry that sounded of a bird of prey, he transformed and flew into the air, disappearing with haste.

"Go where!?" she cried, although he was far away by the time the words left her mouth, and it wasn't like he was going to reply anyway. She begrudgingly returned to eating her meal. It really was satisfying, but she had to wonder if she was going to live like this the rest of her stay in the Realm, or at least until some manner of fey executed her.

She laid down into the soft lemony grass and stared at the sky. The sky was blue with light pink trails of cloud. Other clouds—small, circular, and white—spotted the sky as well. She couldn't deny that this place was wondrous, but she also couldn't deny it would be the place of her doom…in one way or the other.

She heard another call that of a bird of prey and shot up, expecting to see Moshire, but instead a large bizarre looking creature was sniffing around the remnants of the stag meat.

"Get away from that!" she shouted at it and then it was staring at her. It had the head and wings of an eagle but the body that of a large cat. She shrunk back low, hoping it would forget it had seen her. Without her power, she could do nothing to harm it or help herself.

She heard the grass thrash in hint of the creature coming closer. She leapt up and started to run, for it was the only idea she had to escape it. It squawked and took flight, keeping low enough to make grabs at her. She screamed and held her hands over her head, trying to keep from its talons getting tangled in her hair. She tripped over a rock and fell to the ground where a ring of orange dust puffed into the air. Her knees and hands stung terribly as she rolled over to see the creature looming over her. It cocked its head to the side and then all within a cloud of motion, changed into that of a younger man.

"What in the Realm are you?" he raised one brow.

He had the nerve to ask _her_.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you a disguised angelis, faerie, or dragon?

She frowned, "I'm _Human_."

His eyes widened to surprise and utter amusement. She pushed herself to a stand but the adolescent returned to his odd, yet true form and grabbed her by the arms, lifting her into the air as screams of terror ripped from her throat.

---

Varisca had never been flying before, Moshire had never flown her anywhere as they walked to the places he led her. Her arms felt as if though they would be separated from her body at any moment in the creature's talons. She was high in the air as well, so if her arms didn't collapse, she had a long fall to her death to look forward to. She screamed but the wind tore the sound away a second later for he was flying fast. They came to a ledge on a high bluff, where he dropped her and she fell into hard rocks. She lay there for a moment, as she took in ragged breaths, glad the ride was over, but horrified at what new terrors would befall her. _This is what I deserve don't I?_

"I should probably alert Lathandrian about you, but having a human to myself is just too delicious," she heard his amused voice above her. He was staring down at her from a higher ledge, transformed once more. His hair was a dark brown color, and he looked to be about sixteen years old.

"Are you saying you are going to eat me?" she asked in alarm as she sat up, the rocks jabbing her.

He considered, "No. Humans don't taste that good, well not to me anyway."

"What _are_ you?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm Gryphon."

"_A_ gryphon?"

"Yes, I am that too."

"So what do you plan to do with me?"

"I can't harm you, so I will play with you."

"What?"

"There's an essence around you that forbids me to harm you, so I shall play with you." He spoke as if she was dumb and everything was obvious. "I want you to stack these rocks into towers, then I will knock them down."

"What does that accomplish!?"

"It will make me feel mighty and terrible for a few moments, and if you disagree I will chase you whilst I peck at you."

"You're insane!"

"You're _my _human now, you have to do what I say."

"I refuse!"

He frowned at her and then was suddenly in his gryphon form, circling above her as a vulture would, and then dove at her with his beak. She shrieked and covered her head as before. He repeated this act several times, all the while squawking manically.

She fell to the ground out of breath from dodging him, her limbs stinging from tension, "STOP! ALRIGHT!"

He perched atop the ledge above once more and watched down on her as she began stacking the rocks, all the while muttering under her breath, _I do NOT deserve this,_ and realizing that the company of Moshire was much better suited to that of an immature gryphon. Perhaps there _was_ a valid reason after all, for Moshire's instructions that she not to talk to other fey.


	8. The Healing

Selendrile had been called urgently to the Phoenix's den at midday. The reason or cause for the urgency was left unspoken, but he left the Halls of darkness nonetheless to investigate. A great sense of evil had clouded the sky as he flew to the domain that was high in the mountain on the other side of the Realm. It was a secluded place that smelled of brimstone and was illuminated by fire.

He reached the den, transformed into a human but wore simple clothes, as finer clothes would probably catch on fire there. He saw Aerend first, the one who had called on him. Aerend was sitting on the floor of ashes, his back against the wall of rock, his face in his hands. He looked up when Selendrile's shadow fell across his form.

"What's wrong?" Selendrile frowned.

Aerend nodded his head to the side, motioning toward the rocks.

Selendrile followed the path and saw what he was signaling to. He took in a sharp breath and staggered backward a tiny bit at the sight he saw.

Lallielle's body was laid on the nest of the Phoenix. Her arm was covered in her ebony blood, and crimson tear trails were dried along her face. He quickly approached her, trying to discern if she was alive or dead. Her heart was slow to beat, but that one sound of life in her chest gave Selendrile a great relief.

A great light illuminated the room all of a sudden, and at the same time a wave of heat hit them.

"Pardon me your majesty, sir," a child's voice sounded behind him. He turned to see the Phoenix in human form—what appeared to be a five-year-old redhead.

The Phoenix was a one-of-a-kind creature, he would grow and live for ages and then die, but return to the world newly born from his own ashes. He must have died recently for the last time Selendrile saw the creature it appeared to be a withering old man. His tears could also heal anything, and anyone—even wounds from a divine.

Selendrile watched the Phoenix-child as he climbed near her body and looked curiously over the wounded Parra. Her blonde hair was damp from perspiration and covering her eyes, her dress was ravaged, and the black blood had congealed into a sticky mass on her skin.

The Phoenix bit his lip and then began to wail. Suddenly he was no longer the child as he morphed into a magnificent flaming bird. The den filled with an almost blinding light and unbearable heat but they all stayed their ground.

Tears of compassion started rolling out of his eyes. They were crystal clear as they landed upon Lallielle, dripping onto her wounded arm. The cuts closed themselves almost immediately but would bear the same scars as her other arm. Selendrile could hear her heartbeats fasten as a renewed life entered her through the magic of the Phoenix's tears.

Then all at once, the Phoenix was a child again, sniffling and wiping his eyes at the sight of her.

"Why isn't she moving?" Aerend demanded.

"She needs rest," the Phoenix said and hopped of his nest.

Selendrile nodded and turned to Aerend, "Tell the others to join us, we shall wait until she wakes and discover what happened."

Aerend gave a nod of compliance and called upon the rest of the magnificent seven to fly to the den. The dragons and Parra were close. It was upsetting to learn of Lallielle's mistreatment, and horrifying to learn that she was last existing member of her kind. It was even more unsettling to know Lathandrian was at fault and held all the power.

Meanwhile the Phoenix tugged on Selendrile's pant leg. Selendrile looked down to the child in wonder. "Madness is blanketing this Realm—violence takes place of love, hurt takes place of hope. I will not be able to cry enough tears to heal this world O Prince." The little boy held out his arm and Selendrile saw the same crossing red scars that Lallielle carried.

He swallowed a growing worry about the lack of resolve the situation held. His mind jerked, wondering how long it would be before Lathandrian would hurt Alys in the same manner. Lathandrian never truly wanted Alys for himself. Selendrile knew that having Alys taken away was just a punishment to Selendrile for leaving the Realm.

---

When Lallielle opened her eyes, she could see relief in every jewel facet of their eyes—she was alive. A great pain swelled in her body, and she managed to turn her head to find her arm was healed, but would not go without matching scars.

She was in the Phoenix's den, for she could smell the ashes and brimstone. She had been there before.

"Miss Lallielle why did master harm you?" a little boy held her finger, his face showed he had been crying. It was the second time he was called upon to heal Lathandrian's horror.

"Yes, _why_ did he do this to you?" Selendrile asked coldly, worriedly standing before her.

She racked her brain for a memory.

_She saw Lathandrian's face, ever charming as he carved into her arm, the black of her blood spilling as she screamed in horror. She didn't know! She couldn't answer correctly! And when the pain became unbearable she cried tears of red and burst into a hundred little blackbirds to escape his torment._

She moaned, "He was going on about a book."

"What book?" Selendrile asked.

"The Book of the Ages. It's a book, from the dawn of his rule. _I've _never seen it, but I only know of it." She whimpered a little as she shifted weight and took her hand from the Phoenix. "I do not know where it is or what it says but Lathandrian seemed to think otherwise."

She held her hand over her face, starting to sob more crimson tears. She had barely made it this time, how long was it before Lathandrian extinguished her existence?

Aerend kneeled beside her and held her other hand while stroking her hair, "We can't let her go back to him."

Selendrile felt sympathy for the Parra, but felt he knew Lathandrian better than any of the other fey. Lallielle was just convenient victim to prey upon, a pawn in his sick games.

"If he had wanted her dead, she could have been gone with the snap of his fingers. He still wants her alive."

"Just to torment her again!" Aerend was furious as he stood, "Lathandrian is insane! How many more of us will he torture or vanquish before it ends?"

Selendrile stood in a silent thought, not knowing how to answer. He wondered why Lathandrian was acting obscenely malevolent, _something_ had to cause it, but it was beyond Selendrile to think of what the reason could be. The 'book' Lallielle spoke of might have contained something of value to the divine.

Selendrile cleared his throat, "We cannot harm Lathandrian or stop him from doing what he pleases. So for now, do whatever you can to avoid his touch of madness. I must go now."

He turned in haste and sprinted out of the den, to the cliff's edge and as soon as his foot left the ground, his body molded into that of golden scales and great muscles, sharp talons and wings like the sails of large ships. The others didn't know where he was going or why, but couldn't help but to feel that the weight of everything was taking its toll on their prince's nerves.


	9. The Desperation

It was dusk by the time Alys saw Lathandrian again. She had busied herself trying to decode Lallielle's garbled words. _'Escape,' 'Control,' and an unclear 'Him.'_

"Hello again, dear Alys, how have you been today?" he smiled as he approached her.

She was still sitting at the overlook, "I'm fine, but I cannot say as much for Lallielle."

His eyes narrowed, "Did you see her today?"

"Yes—she was badly hurt."

"But she is not dead?" he asked, though his voice seemed to know the truth of it.

"I do not know. I hope not."

Lathandrian took a seat next to her, his eyes looking her over with consideration. "What is troubling you?"

"She told me something, something I don't understand."

"Oh?"

Alys turned to face him, to study his face. A paranoid feeling rose within her—how did he use his power? She wondered if he had used it on her without her knowledge. Could _he _be the one that she was supposed to escape from?

His eyes widened with innocence, as if to say _'Me?'_

She raised her brow with a suspicious look at him. He shrugged nonchalantly.

She frowned and brought her knees to her chin, looking back toward the double sunset.

"Do you enjoy my company, dear Alys?"

She thought about it. He did yell at her for no reason, and grab her hard enough to leave bruises. He also took away her clothes, and there was a hint of roguishness within him that she wasn't so sure she liked. Yet, he had treated her well, fed her, clothed her, and talked to her sweetly. The way that he looked upon her was enthralling, and made her feel to be more than a clumsy, dirty, human.

"Yes, for the most part," she gave a small smile and leaned back onto her elbows.

Still, it seemed she was forgetting something, something important that should have never been forgotten. It was an unnamable memory that was rattling the cage bars of her brain, as if it were imprisoned. What was it?

She shook her head, at her own frustrations. The suns were behind the colorful hills, and night was upon them. The night only made Lathandrian seem even more charming, as the dull glow of the things in the sky cast a soft light on the divine. His smile was breathtaking.

She would have fully enjoyed looking at him but she noticed her hair was stiff and her skin felt dusty against the material of her dress. She needed a bath, so she asked, "Where can I wash up?"

Lathandrian showed her the way to a hot spring on the same mountain as the palace. It was at a higher altitude than the palace itself but that only gave them a better view of the land.

It consisted of three intimate pools of bubbling bright greenish-blue water that were illuminated by the surrounding iridescent mushrooms. There was a small waterfall of cold water that also fed into the pools so that it was a comfortable temperature to bathe in.

"It's so pretty!" Alys took in the sight.

"Glad you like it. Go ahead, and wash up. You know the way back," Lathandrian brushed the hair from her neck and took his leave. The moon was high, and everything was visible in the shadows.

She disrobed and entered the pool. The warm water rushed around her body and made her muscles instantly relax. She cupped the water in her hands and splashed it onto her face, and then closed her eyes, and tilted backwards to submerge her head. Her hair fanned around her face, floating as the water current swished it. She resurfaced with a delighted giggle. She swam and sat under the cold waterfall, letting it pour over her.

Through the rushing water of the fall, she could see something had landed on a rock by the edge of the second pool. She gasped and quickly slid back into the hot water, completely submerging her body. There was a golden hawk perched on the rock—regarding her. It was only a bird, but she kept herself covered as its eyes were searching, with a keen intelligence.

"Shoo!" she shouted and splashed water at it. It squawked, and took flight high into the air but only landed on a branch of a nearby mushroom tree above her. She scrambled to where she had left her dress, quickly donning it. The golden hawk unnerved her. She turned back towards the springs, to take another look—disappointed she couldn't have spent more time in the water. When she turned again to follow the path back, the hawk was no longer on the branch. Instead, a man was leaning against the trunk and staring at her. She cried out in surprise and jumped backwards.

He had long, golden hair and eerily reminded her of Lathandrian, but he wasn't smiling in a charming way. He approached Alys, and she could only stare at him with a body full of apprehensive tension. That memory in her head was screaming to be unleashed.

"Alys…" he spoke her name—he knew her and she must have seen this being before but could not recall when.

She shook her head in disbelief and whispered, "Who _are_ you?"

He stopped and searched over her. She was wide-eyed, wet, and fearful. A mixed look of anger and sadness crossed in his purple eyes. "He has plucked me from your memory."

He still frowned, yet coming closer to her. He was wearing a simple shirt with a vest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked so simple but seemed to be so much more. The expression in his face gave the impression that she and he were close—maybe they had loved one another. She blushed, and wondered why anyone would take her memory of this man away from her. He stared at her arms, noticing two purple-colored bruises on her flesh from where Lathandrian had roughly grabbed her, and then a quiet, unspeakable rage filled his features.

"He would have you forget me, but don't let him control you or hurt you, Alys."

There was that sentence again: '_Don't let him control you._' He reached out for her and took her hand in his, leading her closer yet. His voice was husky and cheerless, "If you were in the right mind, I would apologize to you, but right now it would mean nothing."

She could see a sincere desperation in his face, and felt tears form in her eyes. He was obviously suffering and she was helpless to console him.

"Just know that I would replace my words with the most beautiful words anyone could ever tell you," he sighed and wiped away a stray tear that had run down the side of her face, "and know that I truly, wouldn't leave you for the world."

She held his wrist in place by her face, not wanting the touch of comfort to go. "Please tell me who you are?"

He leaned over and gave her a swift kiss, low on her cheek, close enough to taunt her mouth but chaste enough for her not to pursue more.

"_Remember Selendrile,"_ He whispered into her ear as he pulled away. With an enormous cry he transformed into a golden dragon. The under draft of wind from his beating wings dried her quickly, and he dove off the ledge only to catch the air and soar into the night sky.

She wrapped her arms around her, despite the warm evening. Did he mean that _Lathandrian_ was the one to make her forget? She frowned and followed the path downward, back to his palace, and ready to fight for her memory of the haunting and handsome _Selendrile._


	10. The Book

There were a number of certain things Lianna could get accustomed to. For example—the beautiful fey garments, the beds, the food, and especially the attentions of a dragon.

She was stretched out on the covers of a bed, in the chamber of the dragon of the Glowing Moon. She wore an elegant but light-weighted robe that Willyr had found in his treasury, and told her she could keep. She was in higher spirits than days past, but still had questions and worries on her mind. Her book was useless to pass time, since she couldn't read it. Her mind wandered into thoughts of the previous events in the great room.

_She had stood alone in the dissipating crowd, her, the invisible whisper of mortality. She had lost sight of Varisca in the commotion, and had no idea what to do, or where to go. She couldn't ask for help or directions because she was instructed not to talk to any other fey creature. Just when she felt her lowest—lost and alone in a strange place—Willyr took a hold of her arm. They swiftly navigated through the chaotic mass."Stay here," he commanded once they were at a suitable spot for exchanging words, and then he was gone again._

_She swallowed a lump in her throat, watching him join the other dragon-youths as they followed a furious Selendrile down the corridors. _

_Alys was gone, Lianna understood this but not the reasons to why. She understood that the inexplicitly beautiful man was the mysterious, Lathandrian and he was the same divine of the Realm that Willyr had spoke of the night he gave her his blessing. _

_She stood at the back of the great room and watched as Lathandrian was left alone with Alys._

_"Now as for you…"_

_Alys gave him an unsure, flirty smile—it was very out of character for her. He tipped his head to the side so his hair fell off his shoulders and down his back, studying her with those unusual eyes. They were colored liquid black with wide gold irises. Enchanting as they were, they caused an unsettling feeling to fall upon Lianna. She was suddenly very fearful for her friend._

_She didn't get to see what happened next for a quick and silent hand grabbed hers, tugging her away from the great room. She yelped but that did not catch either of the others' attention. Lathandrian could not see her and Alys was too enchanted by him to notice anything else._

_Once she got over her initial surprise she asked, "What happened to Selendrile?"_

_Willyr glanced down at her with a melancholy expression, "I can do nothing for him. He will suffer alone until he calls for us again."_

_"Why did he let Lathandrian take Alys away?!" she shouted at him, suddenly angry and worried. She saw the danger, why couldn't Alys?_

_Willyr spun her around so she was up against a marble pillar of the corridor. He mirrored Lianna's emotions, "He would never simply let Alys be taken but you fail to remember Lathandrian is our creator. If we do not appease him he could end us with the blink of an eye. Selendrile had to give Alys to Lathandrian to save all of us."_

_Her eyes widened in the realization of how close the dragon-youths were to being destroyed before her very eyes. Still, she was curious, "Why Alys?"_

_Willyr continued forward with a sigh until they were stopped in front of a tall black door—the entryway to the Halls of Darkness. _

_"I shall explain more once we reach my lair. It is not safe to talk of such things out in the open."_

_The doors opened suddenly and a hundred little blackbirds flew through, into the hallway at a dizzying speed. The two companions dropped to the ground and Willyr covered Lianna—protecting her from the onslaught of 'peeping.'_

_When the last of the birds had gone, he pulled her up to a stand. She was shaking._

"_What, what was that?"_

_Willyr shook his head, "It was Lallielle. She probably was delivering a message somewhere in the halls of darkness."_

_Lianna recognized the name as the mysterious lady that was made from birds._

_She held Willyr's arm as they entered the domain of the dark fey._

_"I told you not to disturb me," Selendrile glared, coming out of a broody gaze to nowhere. Lianna blinked a few times, her eyes getting used to the darkness._

_Willyr bowed and Lianna followed suit with a curtsy, although she was far less grand than her companion as she was still in her undergarments. "I only wish to escort Lianna to my lair."_

_Selendrile's face turned to an expression neither of them could comprehend. He nodded solemnly and then returned to his throne. They walked through the chamber—an enormous, grandly carved place within a mountain, the walls, ceiling, and floor all chiseled from the inner rock. The Halls of Darkness were quiet though, all but a dull howl of wind, blowing through. Everything was dragon-sized, the halls, the rooms, the archways were enormous. _

_"This way," Willyr beckoned her when her attention was lost on following him and instead staring at the ceiling, so, so high above. They entered another chamber, but this one was different. In the middle of the floor was a mosaic of tiles, showing the phases of the moon, and there was natural light hitting the middle of the mosaic through a hole in the ceiling. The middle of the mosaic was where the white dragon was depicted. The images were also quite large—Lianna could lay with her limbs spread as far as they could reach and she would still be in the parameter of the moon depictions. _

_A shine caught her eye and she spotted a mass of riches that took her breath away. She approached to see jewels upon jewels and gold, lots of gold. "I've never seen such a wealth."_

_He opened a wooden chest at the foot of the pile and grabbed a folded stack of cloth. She watched as he spread it open and realized it was a lady's gown. He held it up to her with his brows raised._

_She blushed when she realized he meant for her to wear it. _

_"It's a gown of the Realm, made from material thin enough to feel as though you are wearing nothing at all—but yet you still are covered," he explained._

_She took the material between her fingers and relished the smooth, light feeling of it. She took it and draped it over her arm. "It is beautiful."_

_"It doesn't compare to other things," he said. She looked to him, seeing if he was purposely being charming—but all she saw was the pearly white of his eyes and how they seemed to dance around her. That was when she had no doubt in her mind that he really was taken with her._

He had left though.

_They had been lying next to each other, their faces close and his fingers were turning coils of her messy hair. He had a gentle expression, a pleasant smile and sleepy eyes. He was about to tell her—answer her questions about Alys, Lathandrian, and Selendrile but he abruptly sat up, eyes wide._

_"What is it?" she asked with worry, seeing his sudden worry._

_"Lallielle—" he swallowed—"has been hurt."_

_She could see he had been contacted via dragon-telepathy. There was no other way he could have known. He shook his head so his black locks of hair became even messier. "I have to go. I'll try to be back soon."_

_With that, he donned the clothes he had worn previously and hastily removed himself from the chamber—crying as a bird of prey would as he transformed into his true form. _

Now she was waiting, waiting for the sound of his footsteps, the feel of his lips, the smell of his hair, the taste of his kiss, the sight of his smile…she wanted him back. It seemed like hours to her impatient mind since he had left.

She might have dozed off, but it was hard to tell the difference between dreaming and awake in the Realm. A shadow fell across her form and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him with drowsy grin, glad he had returned.

"Is she going to be all right?"

His eyes seemed concentrated, focused on something—the book that was spread open, but upside down across her chest.

"I'm going to need that book, now."

She handed it to him, with a bit of reluctance—remembering his vague attitude about the book from before. He closed it and examined the silver-threaded lettering.

With a curse he threw it open again, turning pages wildly. He scanned a certain page and sighed irately, closing the heavy book. He pointed to the foreign title and said, "_This_ is the book of ages."

That held little significance for the scholar. He sighed, "Lathandrian must have sensed it's coming through to the Realm."

"What is going on? _Tell me_."

"Lallielle was tortured to near-death this afternoon by our divine. We had no clue to why, only assuming it was just a part of his cruel and insane whims. She said he was looking for a _book_ more specifically the _book of ages_." He explained, "Now, I don't know why he is looking for it, but it must contain a knowledge of great importance, such a great importance he is worried enough to torture his messenger to locate its whereabouts."

"So what does it say? You told me you could read it," Lianna was now more curious than ever, and appalled at Lathandrian's behavior—which made her more worried for Alys's well-being.

"I can read it, as it's in the language of the dark Fey," he opened the book again and turned to the picture of Lathandrian, "But from here on, the writing is only in Parrain. That is, only a parra can read it."

Lianna shook her head, indicating she did not know what a parra was.

"Lallielle is a parra, the last parra in existence."

---

They arrived in the Phoenix's den as the moon rose, giving him a bright aura—as if he drew power from the lunar light. She held the book close to her chest, her arms heavy from the weight of it as Willyr became his smaller, human size. They flew through the moonbeams, her cradled in his talon protectively,

The little phoenix-boy greeted Willyr, but did not seem to see Lianna. He had told her about the Phoenix but suggested she just watch the events unfold, and not to say anything. Since she held the book, he didn't notice that either.

"Just checking up on her," Willyr nodded as he passed the child. The boy shared the nod, yawned and then took sleep in make-shift nest of blankets and pillows, all singed with licks of fire.

They entered the bigger nest, the one where Lallielle was resting to see Aerend at her side.

"You're still here?" Willyr asked with raised brows.

Aerend shrugged, "What else have I to do but watch over her?"

He returned Aerend's shrug and took a seat next to Lallielle, opposite of Aerend. He spoke her name softly until she proved to be conscious. Lianna moved in closer to see. Aerend acknowledged Lianna's presence but remained silent.

"What do you require?" Lallielle asked, hardly coherent.

"I've found the book of ages."

Her eyes snapped open, wide, alert but winced at the remaining pain in her body. "How? Where?"

Lianna handed it to him as he opened it.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is the information it contains. You are the only one that can read it—it's Parrain."

Both dragon-youths helped her to sit up. Her limbs felt the sharp tingles of being moved after being in a stiff position for hours—asleep.

Willyr held the book out for her to read, although she blinked many times and read it silently to herself.

"What is it saying?" Willyr asked after awhile of turning the pages. There were many pages and Lallielle only nodded when she needed one turned.

"It's about the history of fey, the old battles we fought between each other and humans. It tells of dragon-clans and of how fey became revered by mortals."

"_In the time before fey, the mortals lived solitary lives in the Earth dominion. Lathandrian, divine of magic, complexity, and beauty came upon this place and decided to create his own creatures to provide the boorish mortals with fantastic excitement. The mortals feared Lathandrian's creations and thusly began to worship the powerful draconian creatures under fear of death or ill omen."_

So far, there seemed to be no staggering information they were not aware of. They had existed so long, and knew of the Parrain-writ history. There must have been _something_ in it to cause Lathandrian to vanquish all parra and torture Lallielle.

"_Now _what does it say?" Willyr wondered. Lallielle frowned at his impatience but squinted at the book and recited the gist of it, "It speaks of the different creatures Lathandrian made possible, and his creation of the Real—" Lallielle paused and re-read a line.

"What is it?" Aerend frowned.

She coughed and quietly recited, "_Ghodiva, who must have been the divine of the mortals, of simplicity, as she created them and left them to their own whims, returned to the Earth dominion to see Lathandrian's masterpieces subjecting her creations to false worship. Thusly she issued an ironic curse upon him for his foul deeds, as divines may do that sort of thing to each other._

They all were silent until Willyr prompted, "Go on."

"_To force Lathandrian to retreat from the Earth dominion, she cursed his divine essence with a threat of:_

_The magic inflicted flesh_

_Of the mortal wronged to obey_

_May destroy the divine of fey_

_Lathandrian, not knowing fully what the curse entailed, only that any mortal that suffered wounds from any of his creations were to be wary of—did retreat and call all his creations to retreat with him, into a safe place known as the 'Realm' He ordered that no mortal be allowed to enter, and ordered this book be left somewhere in the Earth dominion as so not to be found and his curse read aloud."_

Lallielle swallowed and looked up at the dragon-youths who were just as well at a loss for words.

"No wonder Lathandrian tortured you and you alone. He _can_ be destroyed." Aerend finally spoke, a hint of relief and awe on his voice.

"By a human," Willyr looked at Lianna.

"A human with _'magic inflicted flesh',_" Lianna amended.

Lallielle's odd eyes widened at the realization there was a strange mortal in the room she had never seen before. She looked to Willyr but Willyr only put his finger to his lips, signaling Lianna was to be kept secret.

"That's the question though. We dragons did not simply leave humans with our scars. We ate them or killed them outright if we were to be crossed." Aerend explained.

"Not to mention any human that could have been wounded by fey would have been dead eons ago. We were _forced_ to leave the human realm, so no fey were around to inflict humans that were still worshipping them."

Lallielle collapsed back onto the nest, her thoughts racing of her kinsmen all gone, all destroyed just because of Lathandrian's paranoia.

"Unless—"Lianna took a gulp, not wanting to suggest it but maybe it was possible, "The inflicted human is still alive, and has lived for ages."

Willyr knotted his brows, "Who could possibly still be alive that was alive during our inhabitance in the mortal world?"

"Varisca, the sorceress of ages. She also tried to destroy you."

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A/N: Sorry it's been awhile but I figured I could take some time since you all are probably off doing summery-vacation-y things. ;)


	11. The Memories

Alys entered the great room where Lathandrian was sitting on his throne. No one else was in the room. _What good does sitting on your throne do if no one is there to watch?_ She wondered, but then realized _she_ was the one watching. He smiled as she approached. She only glowered in return.

"What is the matter dear Alys?" his smile fell and was replaced with concern.

"Give me back my memory!" she shouted at him, almost immediately.

His concern was replaced with a snarl, "You do not know what you speak of dear Alys."

She felt her fists clench, "Why am I not able to remember Selendrile?"

Lathandrian was on his feet, a dangerous essence clouded around them as he glowered down at her, "How do you know about _Selendrile_?"

"Why did you make me forget him? WHY!?" she cried, ignoring the initial question and remembering how comforted she was by Selendrile's touch. She forgot she was screaming at the most powerful of all beings, but did not care once she realized.

Lathandrian took in a breath and closed his eyes with a smile, "I told you it would be an ill mistake to hear of him."

His eyes snapped opened and he raised his hand—she recoiled fearing he would strike her—and stumbled backwards. He caught her fall, and his hand flew down but only softly stroked her cheek instead of slapping it. He then captured Alys in his arms dipping her low as if they were in a dance, "I'll show you why I made you forget him." He then cupped her cheek, and his touch went deep, releasing a prick of energy in her mind and that was when all the trapped thoughts and memories of Selendrile flooded her head.

_She ran and ran back to St. Toby's feeling that if Selendrile didn't make it, then neither would she._

_"Or, you could stay with me."_

_"Do you mean it?" she asked._

_"Yes, yes I mean it," he said decisively._

_She smiled, "Well in that case, I will."_

_"Alys—I wouldn't leave you for the world."_

"_I'm done with you."_

"_I don't want anything to do with him anymore. He is nothing but a liar, a horrible, vile liar!" She screamed into the dark._

"_I risked everything for him. He allowed me to be near him, and to trust him for months, I daresay even begin to love him…and…and…and…after all that I've been through with him, after he promised he wouldn't leave me—he told me he no longer has any use for me, I am not to follow him furthermore. I must be a miserable burden and he must be a selfish liar."_

"_I hate you,"_

"_I HATE YOU!"_

She remembered now. She remembered his beauty, his lies, his deceit, his betrayal, and the ways he had made her feel—exhilarated, frightful, frustrated, and angry.

"Stop," Alys said and crumpled in tears as Lathandrian let her fall to the floor, all the heartbreak, disappointment, questions, and betrayal once more filling her. It stung her to no end that Selendrile had repeated those words again—his promise of not leaving her for the world—not even a half hour before. Where was he now? Certainly not here now, so he had _lied_ again. Why would he want her to remember him if all she could remember was how he hurt her?

"You see dear Alys, _that_ is the reason I removed him from your memory and now you will be fated to carry that hurt with you always," the divine leaned over and said softly. She let out a cry and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, for any sort of comfort. He stroked her hair but otherwise did not return the embrace as she had brought the hurt upon herself by asking.

She lay on the cold marble floor as he sat next to her, his attention on her albeit, curiously. She breathed in and out, trying to sort through her memories and emotions about the Prince of Dragons.

"Why do dragons have to change to their true form before the sun rises the next day?" she sniffled.

A cold look entered his eyes, "Because they must be reminded of what they are, and _be_ what they are. They are _my_ warriors, and cannot hide in the lives of different beings."

"So they must die?"

"What good are they to me if they become something else?"

"Why even allow them to be human then?!" Alys asked angrily, propping herself up on her elbows.

"All fey creatures may disguise themselves in human form—at first it was to better infiltrate the masses. It also is handy as all fey may understand each other in human form. A gryphon cannot understand a dragon while in their true forms, so they speak the human language as a bridge of communication."

Alys bit her lip, while thinking it was quite a clever concept—sinking back to the floor. Still she did not understand Lathandrian's need to have his fey imprisoned in their true forms. Perhaps they did not think of it as an imprisonment. She thought about how Selendrile enjoyed being a dragon and often felt that it gave him more intelligence and power over her. True, he was more powerful than her but she could think of a few foolish acts on his part that didn't seem so intelligent.

_He kissed me_.

That was a foolish thing for him to do, that is, if he was going to have nothing to do with her. He should not have kissed her so gently by the hot springs, then she would not feel so conflicted about him. She would be able to loathe him without doubt, but yet he seemed to be playing games. She remembered the look in his eyes as he spoke to her.

She couldn't fully loathe him, and it frustrated her that she didn't know his intentions.

_I want to ask him, see him just one more time…_

She shook her head abruptly back and forth, shouting "NO! NO! NO!"

Lathandrian raised a curious brow but smiled cleverly although she had seen he had done nothing of the sort.

"How do you feel about celebrations?"

His question caught her off guard—she looked up to him with a frown, "What is there to _celebrate_?"

"I can celebrate anything I want."

She sat up from the floor, tilting her head to the side in contemplation, "They're fun. I've only ever celebrated the Christmas and I _did_ get to eat pies…"

"I think I shall have a celebration tomorrow then."

"Why?"

Lathandrian scrutinized her, as if she were the mad one, "Because I want to. I'll invite the whole Realm and there will be dancing and music and food. I haven't had one in some time so therefore, I shall have one tomorrow."

"It's your world," she shrugged, still not sure why he wanted to throw a celebration. He was grinning to himself, probably considering celebration details.

Alys stood up and tried to straighten her damp hair, as she wasn't fully dry yet.

"Dry me," she whispered, but the wind did not obey. There was no wind. Suddenly Lathandrian was laughing at her. "What?"

"Dear Alys, the wind does not blow indoors, not unless you open a window."

She frowned at his manner, his mocking amusement towards her. She thought he had liked her—after all, he _had_ kissed her. She began to think that all the horrible things she had been hearing—the _'him'_ everyone had referred to—was Lathandrian.

"Why did Selendrile leave the Realm?"

Lathandrian stopped laughing and gave her a suspicious look.

"That's none of your concern."

"It very well is!" Alys shouted stomping her foot, which made his brows rise in mild surprise. "I'm here because of _him_, and if he would have never left here I would be…I would be…" she trailed off, remembering how she would be if he had never met her—dead.

Lathandrian seemed to sense this and smiled cunningly, "Very well. He left the Realm because he was threatened by me. I created him as a perfect creature and it infuriates him that _I am_ the superior one."

"He's not perfect," Alys huffed, and crossed her arms.

"That's because you have been lucky enough to meet _me_. How did you feel about him before then?"

She strained in her memory, what was it like before he betrayed her? He never answered her questions, he was moody and quiet, he was very unpleasant to travel with…still it felt like a memory was missing—she had to have felt _something_ for him if she was so riled at the thought of him lying to her and breaking her trust.

"I don't remember!" Alys cried with frustration, throwing her arms in the air, "Maybe you didn't give me all of my memory back."

Lathandrian only widened his eyes innocently but it neither confirmed nor denied it was a fact that he had returned her memory in whole.

---

Willyr was shocked at the new fact that Moshire had allowed the sorceress to live and felt somewhat betrayed by his associate. After all, she was close to destroying _him_ as well, "We must inform Selendrile at once."

Lianna became discomforted with that fact, as the Prince of Dragons would most likely destroy Varisca, when she could potentially be useful to them all. She looked away, twisting a loose strand of hair and thinking of what to say to dissuade him from telling Selendrile—at least for the time being.

She saw the phoenix child in his makeshift nest, sleeping soundly. He looked no older than a five-year-old but had healed many over eons. It was amazing to her.

"He's calling for me," Lallielle mumbled, interrupting their thoughts.

Willyr, Aerend, and Lianna stared at her. Lianna didn't know who she was talking about but the two dragon-youths grabbed Lallielle by her arms at once, taking care not to press on her wounds, and fearing she had gone mad.

"No, you cannot go to him!" Aerend cried frantically, his fawn colored hair falling into his eyes.

Lallielle tried to struggle away but they held her down. Lianna could see the red scars, hashed across one another on her arms and was startled at Lathandrian's cruel treatment. When she realized they were not letting her go, Lallielle started crying, as if being forced not to obey was hurting her. Lianna was horrified to see that her tears were blood. She grabbed the Book of Ages and fell back as the Parra thrashed about.

"I _must_!" Lallielle cried, wailing and wriggling.

"NO!" Aerend refused to let her.

"Lathandrian will only torment you further if you leave!" Willyr tried reasoning.

With a scream of pain, her body vanished and instead, many little black birds '_peeped' _as they flew out of the den, sending a mass of wind that beat the rest of them backward. Her wails from before echoed off the rocky walls and resonated her memory of the sounds of agony that hundreds of her kinsmen made when they faced obliteration within the blink of Lathandrian's golden eye.

Lianna was on the ground, clutching the book as ashes rubbed her face and she breathed the scent of brimstone—her heart racing with adrenaline and worry.

Once the birds were gone, Aerend sat up and sprinted to the entrance of the den. With a roar of determination he leaped off the ledge and transformed, mid-air, into the silver dragon of the blowing winds. He spread his leathery wings and they caught the air, thrusting heavy and propelling him away from them hastily. Aerend was the fastest flyer of the magnificent seven, and would hopefully catch up to Lallielle on the winds before she could reach Lathandrian's palace.

Willyr now knew that Lathandrian had a possession over Lallielle's body, which forced her to be obedient to his commands. He hoped that Lathandrian didn't also control her mind—for then he would discover that the book was truly on the Realm side, and in possession of the dark fey. He sensed Lianna's heart beat—thudding against her ribs in concerned fear. He glanced at her and could give her no comfort. The worst feeling he had ever felt hit him in the gut, as he looked into her wide, beautiful, blue eyes—if Lathandrian found out about the book, he would surely discover Lianna's existence as well. He did not want to suffer the same way Selendrile had—with both Sasinna _and _ now Alys.

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A/N: I might start drawing what all these Realm characters are looking like, so stay tuned for updates :D


	12. The Hope

"MOSHIRE!" there was a furious roar in the halls of darkness.

Willyr and Lianna retreated from the raw anger being displayed by the Prince of Dragons. They hadn't even explained the curse of Lathandrian before Selendrile interrupted them in a fury. The rest of the dragon counsel was in attendance, all except Aerend who was still out tracking Lallielle—to prevent her from being harmed further. Selendrile did not take well to the news of her being controlled by Lathandrian either.

After a few moments, the eldest of the magnificent seven entered the room. He had a face full of nonchalance as he approached the throne.

Selendrile grabbed him by his shirt and growled, "How could you have let the wretched, vile, sorceress _live_?"

Moshire had a nervousness reach his topaz eyes, "How do you kno—?"

Selendrile jerked his head back, indicating Lianna.

Moshire pushed out of Selendrile's grasp, "That's not your concern. Anyway I have lost her, I cannot find her."

"What?" Selendrile was livid—his eyes narrowed into slits—suspecting Moshire might have been lying to protect her.  
Moshire saw Selendrile's scrutiny and explained, "I left her in the valley, but was then called to the Phoenix's den. She wasn't there when I returned. I do know not where she is."

Selendrile's amethyst stare was pure loathing at his eldest advisor. Moshire allowed her to live—the woman who had _destroyed_ Sasinna, the woman who had almost destroyed _all_ of them.

"Explain to me why she wanted to end you so eagerly, even though you gave her a blessing," Selendrile crossed his arms, reminded of the questions lingering in his mind from those last hours in the human world.

Moshire looked away and his voice dropped, "I destroyed her family, eons ago. She has lived only for revenge, to destroy me. She never knew she was blessed by be."

Selendrile knew that she was powerless in the Realm, due to Lathandrian's rules, and hoped some manner of beast had seen her to be a fit meal out in the wilderness. He still couldn't fathom to why Moshire wanted her alive if all she wanted to do was exact her revenge upon them. Moshire's mind was elsewhere, not giving them any clues to his thoughts

"Selendrile…" Willyr said calmly, trying to regain the Prince's attention.

"WHAT?!" Selendrile shouted, angry—angry at Lathandrian, angry at Moshire, and angry at anyone who was breathing at the moment.

"We have found the Book of Ages," Willyr held his hands out and Lianna placed the book in them. Selendrile seemed to stop breathing, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Moshire smirked, taking a step forward and grabbed it.

"That's where it went!"

Everyone stared at him for an explanation. Selendrile seemed ready to throttle him for keeping it a secret.

"I had found it at the old Parra burrow, near Alvale, when we went back. It was before I disguised myself as Lord Soleric and infiltrated court. I remembered the Parras spoke of it, how it contained all the history of Lathandrian's reign. It was left there and I took it, tried reading it but to no avail. So I left in the Imperial City Libraries until our return."

"Why did you not tell us this earlier, when Lallielle mentioned it?" Selendrile seethed with anger, jaw clenched.

"Because, there are passages in here only written in Parrain, and I needed her to read it before I told _you_ about it."

Selendrile shouted a furious curse and transformed into his golden form, attacking Moshire. The book fell back, and skidded across the floor. Lianna snatched it up hastily before one of Selendrile's talons ruined it. Moshire became the brass dragon just as quickly, and they slammed into each other. Selendrile's teeth tore a part of Moshire's hide, and Moshire roared in pain.

"Stop them! Selendrile needs to know what Lallielle had read to us!" Lianna cried.

Willyr gave her a worried look, but transformed into the lunaric dragon and tried forcing himself in between the quarreling ones, for he knew she was right in her words. Telonge, who was there as well, also transformed to help him. Lianna watched as the four dragons roared, and bit at one another between thrashes.

"STOP IT!!!!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, her shout bounced off the high ceiling and made it to their senses. They paused in mid quarrel and stared at her, as she _never_ was one to scream like that.

Within the span of a moment, all of them were in their human form, disappearing in a sleek motion from dragon to man.

Selendrile grabbed Lianna's arm with a slight roughness, "How _dare_ you try to command _me_. You should be wise to not interfere with dark fey conflict—"

Willyr firmly took a hold of Selendrile's wrist, "Your highness, please…"

Selendrile took a look at what he was becoming, just what Lathandrian wanted him to be—a foul tempered, blood-lusting warrior. He looked into Lianna's fearful eyes and took a few breaths—releasing her. Still he was furious with the dragon of the shining sun for all his acts of treachery.

"Lathandrian can be…he can be destroyed," Lianna spoke softly, looking at the ground. An eerie silence followed, that seemed to last forever.

She felt Selendrile's cupped hand under her chin, raising it gently, coaxing her to look at him—his stare was breathtaking, "What did you say?"

"He can be destroyed."

"It's true my liege," Willyr stepped forward, "Lallielle read us the curse of Lathandrian." He went onto explain what Lallielle had read.

Moshire stood away from them all, disinterested, and looking over a wound in his arm from their hasty fight—although it would heal quickly and wasn't too painful, it annoyed him. His disinterest continued until Willyr said, "He can be destroyed by a human that bears a wound from one of us."

Moshire whipped around, knowing that he was right in keeping Varisca alive despite her vengeance. He could _feel_ that she would be important to him if not eons ago then now. He knew his symbol was writ in her skin forever.

Selendrile took all of the information in, but it still did not relieve him as he shared Willyr's concern in finding such a human, if one even existed.

"The sorceress, she bears a scar, just under her collar bone of mine. She was a fey worshipper long ago—the human forced to obey with fey inflicted flesh." Moshire stepped forward.

Selendrile's breath caught and a mix of emotion ran through his face—loathing, relief, anger, sadness—he all at once grabbed Moshire and said, "_Find her, and bring her here_."

He threw Moshire back, and Moshire considered Selendrile's command, "If I bring her here, will you destroy her?"

The Prince drug in a deep breath through his gnashing teeth with utter confliction, upon its release he replied, "No. How can I now that she is the only hope I have to reclaim Alys?"

Moshire gave him a deep nod and left them, to find Varisca. Selendrile all but collapsed at his throne with his head in his hand.

Upon Moshire's departure, Aerend returned to the hall of darkness with a small blackbird on his shoulder. They awaited his news.

"I caught up with her at the palace, and he didn't lay a finger on her—in fact he acted as though he had never harmed her despite her flinches whenever he came near her." Aerend had to pause to control his growing rage. "Nonetheless, she didn't utter a word about the book, and he called upon her to deliver a message to the entire Realm."

Aerend held out his finger and the blackbird hopped onto it from his shoulder, a piece of parchment rolled up and tied to its foot. He unraveled the gossamer string that kept it in place and opened the message.

"_Greetings dear creations!_

_There will be a celebration tomorrow at my palace_

_A grand event of music and dancing!_

_Please join me and my human for the festivities_

_I highly recommend you attend._

_Your Divine,_

_Lathandrian."_

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Varisca was damp with perspiration as she piled yet _another_ tower of rocks high. The Gryphon's amusement in feeling mighty did not wane one bit in all the hours since she had met him. Her arms and body ached, and she was getting sleepy.

"Please—"she breathed after he had swooped low to knock her newest tower to rubble, "let me rest."

The eagle head squawked and stomped his feline paws, not finished with his mightiness, but transformed to his sixteen-year-old self and nodded. She collapsed to the rocky, dusty terrain—just sitting still for an over joyous moment of rest.

"You did well at your first task. You are an excellent human to have," he said proudly, which she took he meant for a compliment. She hated how he made it sound like he owned her, as humans owned pets. She turned over, and little pieces of rock stuck into her shoulder blades, "Ow! Is there any water to drink here?" He only asked because she had been entertaining him for hours in the high heat.

"There's water in the valley below," he nodded downward. She peeked over the side of the cliff and got caught with slight vertigo. The colorful hills and mushroom trees blurred together and dizzied her parched mind. There was no way she could climb down the cliff face without killing herself. Her mouth felt dry and sticky, not even her saliva could cool it.

The Gryphon, despite his proud and imbecilic ways could see his human was suffering. He considered her for a moment and then said, "Follow me."

She pushed herself off the ground and staggered after him. He entered his cave, which didn't look very hospitable, only with a stone slab for sleeping. She heard water noises though, which caused her to frown at his back, thinking him a liar.

They came upon a liquid, falling down the cave walls, it was a dark mauve color and some of it was pooled into a cave spring.

"What is it?"

"It's one of the wine springs. They start in the mountains and flow toward the valleys," he could see that she badly wanted to end her thirst and before he could warn her she started drinking in handfuls.

"I should warn you that if you drink from the wine spring you will start to feel unconditionally happy and carefree—also when those effects wear off you will have a great deal of pain in your head."

Varisca didn't care, she had drunk wine before when at the Imperial Palace and it never rendered her intoxicated. However she didn't realize until afterwards that a wine spring of the Realm was far more potent and infected far more quickly.

She was satisfied after a few minutes drinking, her thirst melted away by the cool taste of fruit. She gave the Gryphon a wide smile and sat back to the ground. It was a warm evening, but there was moisture in the air—she could smell it and she feel it on her face as she stared at the amazing sky which was beginning to be covered by nightly clouds.

"It will rain soon," the Gryphon noted, seeing her curiosity toward the sky.

"Then I shall catch raindrops on my tongue," she laughed and opened her mouth as wide as her jaw would allow her although it wasn't even raining yet.

He took a place beside her and joined her in observing the sky.

"It's rather lonely up here," he said in all seriousness.

She turned her head slightly to see if he was being true, "Why?"

He turned to gaze at her, his head resting on his arm, "Lathandrian only created _one_ gryphon—and that's me."

Varisca had all but forgotten about the powerful divine, her thoughts were more occupied with surviving in this Realm of madness. She remembered the Gryphon state that he should have informed Lathandrian of her presence but had not done so—to have her there to keep him company. She oddly felt for the poor thing, as she knew what it was like to be alone.

He grinned broadly and it reached his eyes, raindrops started falling from the sky the moment their attention wavered from it. She stood suddenly, becoming dizzy from the effect of the wine spring but started twirling as the cool water splashed onto them.

She held her arms out with a smile, tilted back her head and caught the raindrops on her tongue as she had promised. The rain was refreshing and there was no thunder nor lightning to startle them as it wasn't a storm.

"I used to leave my home and wander the forest when it rained," Varisca said, "It would be in the spring, and I would sing as I wandered."

"You should sing now," the Gryphon was happy with the anticipation of being entertained again. Varisca stopped twirling and obliged. She sang songs that her mother had taught her, about the pair of orphans who got lost in the woods and found a faerie. She also sang drinking songs she learned at taverns when she traveled with Luthor. The drinking songs were made up of more screams and shouts than actual harmonies and melodies. Nonetheless, Varisca found it fit to drink even more of the wine spring during these songs and convinced the Gryphon to partake in the activity as well. They were both bumbling, drunken, idiots the by the time she shouted out the seventh round.

She stumbled around the cave, wet and giggling furiously at the sight of the Gryphon who was laughing just as heartily as he tried dancing to her noisy shouts.

She bumped into him and he caught her stumble, his eyes catching the skin of her neck and gazing downward until he saw her scar.

He gasped and let her go; she fell as she was too wobbly to keep balance.

"What is it? We were having fun!" she cried, seeing the fun was over as he backed away from her.

"He will hurt me badly!"

"WHO?!"

"Moshire. You did not say you already belonged to him!"

She crossed her arms and said with a slur, "I do _not_ belong to Moshire."

"You have a scar in his marking!"

She glanced down, but it was hard to see at an angle. Her fingers brushed the relief of tissue, her memories of that night trying to return but the wine spring was clouding it.

It was as if Moshire had heard his name, for at the loud sound of a dragon cry they both looked up to see the glittering topaz eyes of Moshire peering into the cave. With a roar of success he shrank into his human form, the form of Lord Soleric.

He approached the Gryphon with a frown, "So you are at fault for her disappearance, I should have realized sooner. I could hear your shouts from the valley below!"

The Gryphon returned the frown, "You shouldn't leave perfectly good humans about in the open by themselves. Do you have any idea what Lathandrian would do if he was to find her?"

"Gentlemen…" Varisca giggled before stepping in to dissipate their arguing as she was feeling light and unburdened by life, "Gentlebeasts…must you argue? I'm fine, you're all fine can't we just leave it at that?"

Moshire studied Varisca—her lackadaisical arm movements and funny speech patterns—and then grabbed the Gryphon by his vest threateningly, "What did you _do_ to her?"

"The wine spring is to blame for that," the Gryphon whined and was let go.

"Come, we're leaving," Moshire approached Varisca.

"But he will be all alone if we go!" she protested and gestured toward the youth.

"That's not the issue at hand," he replied sternly and merely picked her up, hauling her over his shoulder. She cried out with surprise and then started laughing, "The world is upside-down! You are standing on the sky! Farewell Gryphon, thank you for the wine!"

---

He flew until they were back in the valley. He stopped to find her food, as her stomach was empty and all she had in her was the wine spring—also she wasn't in any sort of condition to face Selendrile yet. She screamed in intoxicated delight as they cut through the rain, she felt like she was in a water fall.

"Solerrrric," she hiccupped and sang, as she lay in the yellow grass, trying to get his attention.

He sat next to her with a hand full of berries, "_Soleric_ was a disguise, and you know I am _Moshire_. Eat these."

She picked one out of his hand and popped it into her mouth while shaking her head, "No. Moshire is a _dragon. _You were Moshire a few moments ago but Soleric is a _man_ and right now you are a _man_, so therefore you are Soleric."

He sighed, thinking her logic ludicrous. She ate another berry and leaned against him. "Why did Soleric trick me so?"

Moshire didn't reply to her babbling. She finished off the berries and stood, albeit off balance. The rain was still at it, but coming down lightly. It dripped off her eyelashes and nose. She stared to the dragon-youth, noticing how handsome he was and remembering how he had made her feel. Instead of feeling bad for herself for being trapped in a strange land with beings she loathed, she licked her lips and started to dance. Her dance was one she had not danced in eons. Her waist arced out and her hips rolled as her footwork across the ground was as graceful as if she had been in a ballroom. She brushed her damp hair from her face and closed her eyes while moving.

Moshire's attention was captured fully, as it was _his_ dance, the dance she had done so many years ago upon his altar. He was astounded she had remembered the steps and the movements even now, under the spell of the wine spring. She turned and turned about, breathing heavily but smiling for she felt light as a feather and all her hatred was replaced with blitheness.

Moshire stood and came nearer to her, his heart beating for the girl that inspired him, that had wanted to destroy him but there was no threat radiating from her. He took her waist and met his hands with hers to match her movements, dancing with her in the dark, in the rain. It was something he often imagined doing when he saw her dance long ago.

She pressed closer to him and he knew it was only because she thought he was Soleric, because her mind was confused while bathed in the sea of alcohol.

"Why does Soleric have to be Moshire?" she mumbled tiredly, smothering her face into his chest.

"Why does Varisca have to be the sorceress?" he replied.

She didn't answer but passed out in his arms, the wine spring finally ending its rampage of pleasant effects.

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A/N – _Thi_s is a speedy update, and there shall be more speedy updates!


	13. The Forgiveness

Upon consciousness, the first thing Varisca felt was a great aching in her head, the second thing she felt was rested and cooled off from her previous state, the third thing she felt was a dangerous presence in the room. That's when her eyes fluttered open.

"Oh!" she cried, seeing Selendrile regarding her coldly from in front of her. He stood with his arms crossed, silent and foreboding.

She bolted upright and regretted it immediately as her stomach gurgled and she felt like vomiting. The spinning room did nothing to aid the comfort of her stomach.

"She drank too much of the wine spring," she heard Moshire's voice from the other side of her. She twisted her body around and saw he was indeed sitting beside the bed.

"Where am I?" she asked, trying to stay calm as the events of after the wine spring were blurred and jumbled in her memory.

"You are in the halls of darkness, the domain of the dark fey," Moshire explained and held up a basket in case she did vomit again. He had watched over her as she slept, making sure she didn't make a mess of things.

"How do you feel?" Selendrile asked, although the tone of his voice told everyone he wouldn't be concerned if she were on her deathbed. Moshire shot a glare at Selendrile but it was ignored.

"Awful," she answered truthfully, her stomach gave another close leap to upset.

Selendrile nodded, seeming satisfied.

His presence was daunting. She could _feel_ his hatred for her seethe off his rigid form. She wondered why she hadn't been destroyed yet and she wondered why Moshire had brought her there if he hadn't in the first place.

The Prince of Dragons stared at her until she finally asked, "What do you want with me!? I am powerless!"

Selendrile's arms came down hard on either side of her and he leaned in close, his gaze was hard and dangerous—not to be contested with, "_You_ are going to destroy Lathandrian."

He withdrew himself and waited for her to say something, anything.

Her heart began to beat faster, realizing there was no jest in the cold purple eyes. He really _did_ mean for her to destroy a divine.

"How can I?"

"Just know that you are able, and you may or may not get your powers back if it is accomplished," Selendrile began to take his leave of the room. She couldn't believe he had the gall to order her about, not after what his kind had done to her.

"I refuse!"

"_Refuse_?!" Selendrile spat. He whipped around and returned to his dangerous proximity, "You tortured me for weeks! You destroyed Sasinna! If anything you _owe _me this favor. You are a selfish, evil wench and I should rightly destroy where you lay!"

She was taken aback by the venom in his voice, although she should have expected it.

"My family burned under the flame of a _dragon_, do not tell me I _owe_ you anything!" She shouted right back at him with as much venom. They both were tense and glaring at one another, full of loss, outrage, and pain.

Moshire sighed, "Let me talk with her alone for a moment."

Selendrile narrowed his eyes but left them, glad to be away from the vile sorceress.

"If you think you can convince me—" Varisca began to scold but Moshire shushed her by putting his finger to her lips.

"Your family's death was an _accident_, Varisca. If they had not died, I know you would have kept up tribute, even if it were you and you alone. You were fascinated with us and your faith was not wavering." She saw an unusual emotion flicker through his topaz eyes then. "I apologize for everything. I apologize for being careless of your family's hearth, and their untimely demise."

Varisca looked away from him, knowing he was sincere in his words. She could see it all over his face and hear it in his tone. She faintly remembered dancing with him while under the wine spring's influence, and how he held her. She took a shaky breath, somewhat breaking down and seeing her faults at his apology.

"But you _purposely _ended Sasinna and put Selendrile through unspeakable torment all to get back at _me_. If you destroy Lathandrian, then Alys will be free of his seduction and Selendrile will be repaid. Besides, you might receive a greater power if you succeed."

Varisca brought her knees to her chin, quiet tears falling down her cheeks at Moshire's soft words, "It's not about the power."

He gave her a puzzled look, indicating he did not understand. She laid her head onto her knees and closed her eyes, her family barely hanging on a thread of her memory which spanned many eons, "I just wanted…I just wanted my family back. It is lonely to be without those you love."

Moshire drew her in to comfort her, and that was when she realized that _Selendrile _had felt what she had—to have a loved one taken and live on for years afterward. She might have begun to forgive Moshire but would be damned if he was to fool her pushed out of his embrace suddenly, knowing she must find Selendrile.

She adjusted the fine, silken robe she was wearing, curious to what had happened to her undergarments, as she wore nothing under it. At least she was decent enough to pull herself off the bed and walk hastily towards the doors.

"Where are you going?" there was a worried edge in his voice echoing behind her.

She opened the doors, and barely had two steps out before bumping into Selendrile. He was waiting at the door, waiting for Moshire to talk some sense into her. He turned around hastily and grabbed her by her shoulder with the utmost violence, nearly bruising her skin by his grip.

"Are you foolish enough to think you could escape my domain?" He pushed her back into the previous room. She stumbled and collapsed to the smooth floor.

"No!"

"Then WHAT?" he growled. He studied over her demeanor and discovered her tears, her vulnerability.

"I will help you…"

She looked up slowly to see the pause—his brows were high in surprise and wonderment. He couldn't even gather the words to ask why she had reconsidered. Seeing his lapse in speech, she continued.

"I know how it is…how it is to loose people that I had loved. It is a terrible feeling, and should not be put upon anyone knowingly. I will destroy Lathandrian if it really _can _be done, but in return I want your forgiveness…"

Selendrile grabbed her up and glowered at her, "I will _never_ forgive you for your crimes," he loosened his grip and took a deep breath, as though he had already fought through his conscious about his decisions, "But I will put them behind me if you succeed."

She held her breath and stared into his eyes, realizing this was the best offer she would be able to receive. She took a swallow and nodded, accepting. He released her and took his leave.

"You were very lucky he didn't kill you," Moshire said from behind her.

"You would have let him?"

"I cannot stop the Prince from getting his prey." He frowned and then licked his lips, "Although I would have been displeased if he had."

"So why I am alive now? How am I supposed to destroy a divine when I don't even have any powers?" she returned to the bed, feeling dizzy again.

Moshire crouched beside the bed so he was at eye-level and gazed at her, "Lathandrian can be destroyed by a mortal bearing a wound of fey. You have a wound that runs deep—the scar I gave you."

He touched the space near her collarbone, sending chills through her skin.

He explained the Book of Ages and the curse that was read.

"So how do I do it?" she wondered.

"He cannot see you as you are below him. When the time is right, you shall accost him and strike him in his most vulnerable place."

Varisca raised a scornful brow, "And where might _that_ be?"

Moshire's keen smile faded and he stood, "I do not know."

She rolled over with a hand on her head, pressing the dizziness away, "Remind me to never drink from a wine spring again."

"Very well, never drink from the wine spring again."

They were silent for a few moments but then Varisca turned back to face him, troubled suddenly. She grabbed his hand that was resting on the side of the bed. "When you were human, when you were pretending, was our love also a pretend?"

He looked at the ground, and withdrew his hand from hers, "You have to understand that first and foremost I was trying to gather information. My loyalty is to Selendrile, but then…"

"Yes?" Varisca felt her heart sinking.

"It was _you_. The girl who danced for me, who worshipped me and who, I had thought dead for always. Yes, I gave you a blessing that would give you extended life and protect you from fey but regular people and disasters were always able to take you away." He looked up again, into her astonished eyes, "I loved you, despite your awful vengeance, and despite your loathing for me, because you are talented, beautiful, and unwavering. When I was Lord Soleric, it was _wonderful_ to feel your love and I would give anything to feel that again."

Her breath was caught in her chest, astounded at his beautiful words and there was no doubt in her mind that they were the truest of truths. She stared into his sincere topaz eyes and then pulled his face nearer, closing the space between their lips. She kissed him hard, and new tears fell down her cheeks as she realized she was _loved_ after being subjected to nothing but hate, suspicion, and apprehension for most of her life after Luthor's death.

Moshire withdrew his kiss and wiped her tears away with a gleaming smile. "Do not worry; I will help you through the task that Selendrile demands."

She smiled, and blinked away the last of her tears because he thought she was crying because she was worried.

"How do you suppose I will get my powers back by doing it?"

Moshire tilted his head, considering how to word the answer to make sense, "Lathandrian's power is very great, so if he is demolished his power will distribute around us. Once he is gone, all his permissions are void and your powers will return and if it so warrants they will be greater than before."

Varisca frowned, not quite sure if it did make sense. Then, she smiled ever so charmingly and tested him, "And if my powers return in a greater force than before, then what is stopping me from destroying every fey creature in this world?"

"Me."

Her charming smile faded, and she raised her brows higher.

"You may never destroy me, and now even less than before."

"Why?" she snapped, annoyed at the haughty tone of his voice, as he was so sure she was harmless.

He smiled slyly again and leaned in close, like he was sharing a secret, "Because you have finally _forgiven_ me."


	14. The Past

Alys woke up alone, to her relief and maybe just a little bit of disappointment. She felt embarrassed for wanting to feel that warmth, that feeling of not being so alone when Lathandrian was near. However she still was unnerved at his changing attitudes and moods. He was as inconsistent as the winds and that was what made her relieved to find that she was still clothed and by herself the next morning.

Lathandrian had wanted a celebration, he said he would invite everyone and a nervous rising in her heart began when she realized that it meant she would have to see Selendrile again. She disliked the Prince of Dragons for his lies, and how he had hurt her, but her unconscious knew something that her conscious didn't—otherwise her heart wouldn't have been beating so fast.

"Awake are we?" his smooth voice cut through the room. Lathandrian stood in the entryway looking grand and handsome as usual. His black hair was pulled back the way Selendrile usually wore his, which only furthered her thoughts about him.

Alys rubbed her eye and murmured a barely coherent 'yes.'

He clasped his hands together, "Great! You should wear something elegantly special today since it is celebration day."

She rolled the covers back and before her feet touched the floor, Lathandrian snapped his fingers and she was wearing a long, golden, gown. She sucked in air at the sudden pressure of a corset around her waist.

With another snap of his fingers her hair was braided and piled on top of her head instead of being tangled and loose.

"There, you are a vision of beauty, dear Alys."

Alys smiled a small smile and stood to see what he had made her look like. There was a full mirror in the room, along the far wall, and when she peered at her reflection she could hardly recognize herself.

She really was a vision of beauty!

Alys was never considered one of the beautiful girls. Sure, she had some attractive qualities such as her eyes but compared to Lianna or Varisca she was pretty plain. The gown she wore was like none she had ever seen before. It was tight against her mid section, left her shoulders uncovered, and the gown trailed behind her a few feet. It was made of scales, and upon closer inspection realized they were _dragon_ scales. Golden dragon scales just like Selendrile had. She swallowed and looked to Lathandrian.

He saw her concern and snapped, "No I did not kill him. I merely fabricated a replica."

She could sense his annoyance at the mere thought of the dragon prince, and her curiosity flared. "Why do you hate him so? What was it like before?"

Lathandrian's smile fell and his eyes gazed off into the distance, seeming to try and remember how it was, even if he would rather not.

---

_"I present to you, Selendrile!"_

_The other dragon lords stared at the youth sitting next to their divine. They could see how much pride and effort Lathandrian had put forth to create this perfect creature. For one, Selendrile resembled Lathandrian in his facial features. To bear any resemblance to a divine was an honor._

_"Why do we need him?" Moshire, of the Solaric kind asked suspiciously._

_It was known that dark fey were temperamental and fought over the littlest of incidents. The Draconians were the worst, always antagonizing other dragon clans. They openly fought in the skies in front of the humans, who fled in horror. _

_Lathandrian smirked, "You need someone to unite your kind. Selendrile shall be your prince. You will obey him as he has more of everything. He is stronger, cleverer, and more wicked."_

_Selendrile was one of a kind. The other dragon lords had clans, legions of their own dragons to command. Selendrile could command any of them._

_"This is an outrage!" Moshire spat. He slammed his hand against the table they were gathered at. _

_"Do stop being dramatic," Varlor, lord of the Pyrotic or fire dragons, snapped. _

_Moshire glared at Varlor but otherwise didn't tear him apart like he wanted to._

_"It might be a good idea," Willyr, the Lunaris lord spoke. His clan was almost reclusive and tried to stay out of the quarrels of the other clans. He wished for peace within his race._

_"I agree. It sounds fun!" Telonge of the Strellan, or star clan smiled._

_"You're daft. He means to demote us! Our words will be overpowered by another. We will have no place," Thalen, lord of the Terratic or earthen dragons complained._

_They started arguing amongst themselves. _

_"He will oppress us," Callath of the Aquallan clan claimed._

_"He will save us," Aerend of the Aerollis clan argued._

_"Draconian Lords," Selendrile spoke. His voice was calm and confidant—it was the first time they heard him speak. They stopped arguing and looked to the new dragon prince._

_"There will be no such oppression. I need you as much as you need me. You shall make up my council, my group of advisors. You will tell me of your complaints and I will help you. If you should have quarrels with one another, I will resolve them. I only exist to bring tranquility among dragon-kind."_

_The dragon lords eased a bit at his speech and accepted him. Lathandrian put a hand on Selendrile's shoulder and smiled._

_Lathandrian and Selendrile were close. Selendrile was the ideal dragon—a fierce warrior when battling with bothersome knights and other mortals that threatened fey. Selendrile was fair as well, always settling disputes among his fellow fey. They shared laughs and toasted one another during feasts. It was a happy time for all fey when Lathandrian was pleased._

_Their trust and respect of each other was something to behold._

_That is, until the day Selendrile met Sasinna._

_Suddenly, Lathandrian's champion was absent and neglected to establish contact. Lathandrian feared Selendrile's death, and he despaired. _

_Selendrile returned to his master though, with a human girl by his side. Sasinna was a beautiful creature, with a sharp wit that had stolen Selendrile's heart. He allowed her to become fey, hoping it would return Selendrile's priorities to his master's will but it only furthered Selendrile's absence._

_"What has happened to you O Prince? You would ravage cities, and burn farms and fight on my command. Now you disappear for months without contact and you are always with her," Lathandrian spoke to the golden dragon, in a rare visit._

_"Sasinna thinks it wrong to cause fear in innocent humans, I wish not upset her."_

_Lathandrian was outraged, "You used to be a warrior! Look how she has changed you—now afraid to be what a dragon is supposed to be—a creature of fear."_

_"I don't enjoy that you have the power to command my life." Selendrile frowned and turned his back on the divine, signaling he no longer was on good terms with Lathandrian. "I take my leave."_

_If Lathandrian weren't so fond of his prized fey he might have destroyed him then and there but he just couldn't put an end to Selendrile, too many others depended on him._

_Not long after their falling out, Lathandrian was forced to retreat to his Realm by Ghodiva's divine curse._

_Lathandrian only antagonized Selendrile from then on. First he took Lallielle. _

_Lallielle was quite a beautiful Parrain messenger who was in Selendrile's service. Lathandrian lured her away with sweet words and promises of better days. Selendrile was without a messenger and had to deliver his own messages henceforth. _

_Next he suggested to Aura, princess of faerie that Selendrile could love her, and together they would make a powerful match. Aura took the information to heart and forever more plotted how to make Selendrile love her._

_He created the bothersome Gryphon as a dark fey, and it annoyed the Draconians so much, Selendrile banished him from the halls of darkness to a solitary mountain. _

_The worst thing Lathandrian did to Selendrile was almost unspeakable though._

_He spotted Sasinna in the courtyard of the palace. Selendrile had warned her of Lathandrian's ways so he had never actually gotten to know her. She was alone, which was rare. Using his magic charm and sweet words, he easily seduced her. He bedded Selendrile's mate, causing her to go mad and leave the Realm. Selendrile was thrown into a depression and was once again, obedient. Sasinna's absence was too much for the Draconian prince however, for one day he broke and left the Realm in search for her. _

_The long absence of his champion drove the divine mad. He became angry and violent. He had lived for so long and was becoming bored with his creations—Selendrile was the only one that could amuse him. He sent the dragon lords to seek out Selendrile and bring him back, but within a limited time. He was paranoid of Ghodiva's curse, and wouldn't stand for his fey to be absent for too long in the mortal world. He obliterated all of his Parra, just in case. He kept Lallielle though, as she was his messenger and he only needed one. He needed her to find the book._

_He took Alys because he didn't want her to become the next Sasinna, the next reason for Selendrile to ignore him and his commands._

_---_

"It's not your concern, dear Alys." He sighed as he closed his eyes.

She shrugged, and then twirled in her gown, the train fanned out as she watched herself in the mirror and saw the reflection of the melancholy divine behind her.

* * *

Selendrile looked over the invitation that Lallielle's black bird had given them. The line of '_Please join me and my human in the festivities' _angered him. Alys was Lathandrian's then? He would have to attend, and would have to see Alys reduced to Lathandrian's plaything. _She used to be so independent, and would never let a male command her._ He had to remember Lathandrian wasn't a just a male, but a divine with a severe power for seducing minds.

It caused him to think about Sasinna—it still puzzled him to how _she_ was so easily tricked into Lathandrian's embrace. Sasinna loved Selendrile and would never have let Lathandrian's charm get to her. Though he tried to forget, for it only brought sadness, he remembered the night that he met her.

---

_Selendrile was flying through the clouds, on his way to his fey altar to see what treasures were left to him. As he neared he saw a girl, tied to one of the columns. She was crouched to her knees and her head hung as if her neck was unable to support it. It was no surprise to be offered a maiden, as cowardly village headmen and officials sent young girls for snacking on when they feared they had upset a great dragon lord. _

_He never liked eating humans, and only did so to strike fear in them when they were being bothersome. He rather liked eating plump cows and sows rather than humans. Instead of approaching his alter as what he truly was, he silently transformed into a human. _

_He came from the forest and considered the restrained girl—her wrists were bruised which indicated she had been struggling, her body was tired from her efforts because she was limp and her breaths shallow. _

_"What are you doing here?" Selendrile asked._

_The girl slowly looked up and he saw her eyes widen in surprise at his lack of clothes. They were very green, the color of green the forest held after rain._

_"I am to be a sacrifice," was all she said and she returned to staring at the ground. _

_Selendrile was perplexed, for any human village or town as of late hadn't offended him. He had to wonder why this girl was at his altar._

_"Why you?"_

_"I refused to marry the Lord's son."_

_An anger pricked inside of him at the unfairness of her situation. He was quiet as he studied her further. She had dirt on her face but it didn't hide the fact that she was stunningly beautiful. Her fine dress was ripped and dirty as well, he could see her thigh had bruises._

_"Do you wish now that you had changed your mind?"_

_She shook her head, "The lord's son is a nasty scoundrel. I would have rather lived a spinster than to marry him. I guess now I'd rather be dragon's bait."_

_"What is your name?"_

_"Sasinna." She looked at him, full in the eyes and smiled, "So are you going to help me or not?"_

_"It depends," Selendrile shrugged._

_She didn't ask what it depended on, like he had anticipated. He knew humans to have a limitless curiosity but in Sasinna's case—she really didn't seem to care._

_"Fine, then leave." She sighed, "I bet you couldn't even untie me, let alone help me. You're just a man without clothes that wanders the woods."_

_Selendrile stared at her, feeling offended but amused at her insult. _

_When he didn't move, she smirked, "You'd better leave before Selendrile appears. He would swallow both of us with one gulp."_

_He quickly crouched in front of her, and she tensed. He smiled, "So you are to be eaten because you wanted control of your own life?"_

_She eased a little, and gave a small, derisive laugh, "He said if he couldn't have me, then no man could have me."_

_Selendrile tilted his head and searched her face. She was trying to be brave on the eve of her death. She still even had found humor through her trembling smile. Maybe she was trying to forget all the horrors that had happened to her. Selendrile had never stopped to think about a mate. He was mostly concerned with being a warrior as Lathandrian had made him to be. He realized he was a bit like this human female because he didn't have control over his life—not truly. There was an overwhelming feeling inside of him that wanted her. After all, she was being offered to him._

_"No man can have you," Selendrile repeated. He brought her bound hands to his mouth and sliced through her bonds easily with his teeth. She gasped and started up, surprised at his actions, suddenly figuring he wasn't as human as he appeared to be. Her legs had fallen asleep and were filled with a piercing tingle—she began to fall as she escaped. He easily caught her around her waist, leaned in close and whispered, "What about a dragon?"_

_---_

Selendrile tightened his grip on the parchment until it crinkled to pieces. Lathandrian was the one who was truly responsible for Sasinna's death. He had driven her mad, had hurt Lallielle, had controlled Selendrile's life, and had taken Alys—Selendrile was impatient for the divine's demise.

* * *

A/N: Good? I hope you still are riveted on every word ;)


	15. The Celebration

The dusk was fresh upon the land. The smell of night, not lingering too far from the present. A charged atmosphere radiated around the living beings of the Realm for it was the evening of a celebration. Lathandrian had not had a celebration in some time; the last one was before the Realm, in those days before Ghodiva's curse.

A divine celebration was one to behold. The food was infinite, the music was rhythmic, and the fey were happy.

All manner of fey creatures had crowded in the courtyard and on the tiers that led to the silver pool. Light and dark fey all in their human forms, or human-sized forms were dancing and laughing as soon as the last sun had set.

Selendrile arrived upon the festive grandeur with tension. Yes, it all seemed like a happy time but he knew the real reason of the celebration was unhappy. Lathandrian was celebrating his victory over Selendrile. He had brought his champion back, and he had successfully punished him and could now flaunt it over Selendrile. The dragon-youth bared his teeth as his mind wanted to murder what he could not.

He had not spoken to Lathandrian since that day in the great room of the palace. He did not want to speak to the selfish divine anyhow. He wished that Lathandrian was like Ghodiva, a divine that created creatures and then left them be, only to watch them silently. He did want to see Alys, but knew it would be useless if he were still missing from her memory.

He had seen Willyr, Lianna, and also Moshire and the sorceress, and envied them. There was an intimacy exchanged in their looks, an intimacy he used to share and then wanted to share again but never found the right time with Alys.

Chimes and faerie bells hung from ribbons off the mushroom tree branches, and the wind spun the melodies, and orchestrated rhythms against the drum-like stretches of the mushroom heads. Music could be heard higher yet, flowing around the bodies of the fey. They danced, and spun. Pairs held each other, dragging their hands across their partners' bodies all the while throwing their heads back and laughing. Some of them were aglow with their faerie light, a shimmering, metallic sparkle that surrounded their forms. He was in a sour mood, even though much beauty showed before him.

He felt a slap on his back and tuned to see Telonge approach with his mate, Jacinda. She had been a human long before Sasinna and held as much humor and good nature in her as the Dragon of the Sparkling Stars.

"How do you fare, Selendrile?" Telonge asked, brows rose in concern. He and the rest of the seven knew of Selendrile's reluctance to attend Lathandrian's 'celebration.'

"As well as I can hope for," he replied and nodded in greeting to Jacinda. Telonge was the only other dragon lord to have had a mate. Jacinda, in her human skin, was a lovely brunette with brown eyes filled with laughter. Fortunately, Telonge knew how lucky he was to have her.

The other Draconians in attendance stayed away from the food, as they preferred to kill fresh and eat. They danced though, like the rest of the fey. There used to be many more Draconians, but numerous were slaughtered by the humans before they had the chance to flee to the Realm. Now their numbers were limited and no clan exceeded the number of fifty.

Telonge led his mate up the tiers of stairs to where the dancing was at its fastest. He had not had much time to be with her as of late due to his assistance to the Prince.

Selendrile took a deep breath and followed.

Selendrile reached the top of the tiers, and the epicenter of the festivity. The courtyard was filled to the end, all the way up to the doors of Lathandrian's palace. He saw a flash of blonde and caught sight of Lallielle standing by herself. She wore a grim face as she watched the beings flit past her. She was wearing a new black gown, layered black feathers that contrasted against her light skin.

"Lallielle," Selendrile approached her. Her odd eyes landed on his form and she nodded solemnly in acknowledgement.

"Your majesty" She nodded again. She was unmoving and cold, but to an even greater extent than before. Selendrile had to give her a concerned look, wondering if she was all right. Had Lathandrian tried to hurt her again? She only looked at the ground before softly saying, "She is beautiful tonight."

Before Selendrile could ask 'who', Lallielle nodded in the direction of the food.

He didn't know what he was supposed be looking at, but it was clear once he saw a flash of golden scales. His heart skipped a beat as a ghostly sensation ran up his spine. The female's back was turned on him, but she was looking off to the right so he had a perfect profile. He knew the familiar profile to be that of Alys.

---

Lathandrian was out among his creatures, mingling and socializing, perhaps even lightly threatening them too. He left Alys alone to be hassled by faeries and other fey that were curious about her. She didn't know how to answer their questions of 'how it feels to be mortal.' She didn't know any other way to feel. She often wondered how it felt to be immortal—to never be worried about growing old or dying, to live through all time. She found the spread of food in a similar way to the morning she had eaten breakfast with the faeries. She grabbed a tart of sorts and nibbled on it, relishing the flaky pastry and fruity filling.

She felt her hand being grabbed, and thought it was another bothersome faerie that wanted to ask her impossible questions. She whirled around and glared but was surprised to find someone she rather did not expect. Her heart pace increased as he stared at her.

"What?" She came off defensive, he seemed to be satisfied at something.

He tilted his head to the side, "You look absolutely beautiful tonight."

She couldn't help but to blush furiously, "Oh."

He led her away, while she finished the tart, from the food and into the dancing. Immediately he put his arms around her and danced with her through the music. She was not used to dancing with other people, especially not the opposite gender, and _especially_ not Selendrile. After she found her footing, she gave a small frown to him because he didn't even ask her if she _wanted_ to dance.

"I'm angry with you."

He glanced down at her, "I don't blame you."

She bit her tongue, in order not to say something foolish. She had no idea how to reply. What did he mean by that? If he knew, then why was he here? Why was he complimenting her and dancing with her?

She could remember what memories Lathandrian had returned to her, all the hurt she experienced due to Selendrile's lies. They danced in silence, and as Alys's curiosity grew. She felt little drops of water on her skin suddenly, and looked up to see that it had started to rain. She was thankful because the raindrops covered the beginning of her tears. "Why am I here if I am nothing to you?"

He halted their movements and stared at her. The light around them lit his eyes into an intense purple.

"Alys, you are _everything_ to me."

He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. She shook her head and pulled roughly out of his grasp. She swiftly dodged her way through the crowd. The rain fell harder and a distant thunder sounded. The rain did not daunt the dancing fey. Puddles began to form in between the stones of the courtyard. She wasn't far before he caught her upper arm and spun her to face him.

She found herself shouting, "You make no sense! You're lying to me! Why?"

Selendrile pulled her further out of the crowd, and to the edge of the overlook. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. The rain fell and fell, and Alys could feel her tears begin to fall as well. He caused her to feel so torn between loathing and love.

"Alys, you are blind. If you meant nothing to me then why would I have allowed you to travel with me? Why would have I burnt down the village that had scorned you? Why would I take you with me despite my words? Why would I bless you to be safe from harm? Why would I be here now, explaining to you _why? _All you ever wanted to know was _why_."

She opened her mouth to retort but then remembered—he really had done all those things. The evidence of Selendrile's actions spoke louder than his lies. She recalled the joy, relief, and comfort that consumed her in those times—the good times. They were the reason she was so adamant on finding the dragon-youth that cold winter, risking everything for him. She had only remembered the worst about him, and failed to remember the good. She frowned, figuring Lathandrian was at fault for keeping those memories from her as well.

---

_The summer crickets were loud in the hills, and Alys sat huddled in the corner of the burrow. It was a natural shelter that had been dug out by some manner of creature summers before. The night was black but the stars were bright. She was oddly frightened by the night, and of being alone. Selendrile had been gone most of the day and she spent the time drawing on the hard rock wall with another rock. The small rock left lighter lines, so she could make marks with it. She drew a picture of herself, a human girl in rags and then a large creature arched over her, a protector of sorts—Selendrile. That was back when she thought him a regular dragon, not knowing anything about him. She was thankful for having him save her but wondered what the future held—and how long she would be able to stay with him. _

_She had spent most of the daylight hours adding detail to her drawing, only because she had nothing else to do. She hoped he would return before night so he could see it but her eyes felt heavy and she ended up falling asleep to the sound of the crickets. _

_She felt a light push on her shoulder the next morning and her eyes fluttered open to see him leaning over her, staring at her. She gave a tremendous yawn and said, "Good Morning?" She closed her eyes again, because she was still sleepy but he woke her again._

"_Did you do that?"_

_She opened an eye slightly and saw he was looking towards her drawing. She nodded and held her breath, hoping he liked it. He stared at it for a few more seconds, considering it—and then his concentrated expression broke out into a wide, dazzling smile. His smile told her everything—that he adored it._

_---_

Alys looked at her hands, and saw Selendrile was still holding one. His hand was bigger than hers, so her entire hand could fit inside one of his. She licked her lips, "Then tell me why—"

"Enjoying the festivities are we?" Lathandrian approached them. He had a concentrated frown. Alys gasped because the rain around them was now falling unnaturally slow—so she could see each drop and its reflection of the silvery light.

"We _were_," Selendrile shrugged and wiped gathering moisture off of his furrowed brow.

Lathandrian ignored his champion and his pressed lips broke into a suspicious grin as he then procured a glass into his hand, "I have a refreshment for you, dear Alys."

Alys took the mauve colored liquid and drank it. It felt bubbly, and light—she liked the taste. "Thank you."

"We will dance now," the divine held out his elbow. She took another swig and handed the empty glass to Selendrile, taking Lathandrian's arm.

Selendrile watched them disappear into the mass of dancers. The divine, swiped away the slow-falling raindrops as a curtain would be swiped aside. Her eyes were apologetic, so at least he had gotten through to her. He looked down into the empty glass and brought it up under his nose to smell the vapor of the liquid no longer there. The scent was strong—wine spring. He cursed and threw the glass over his shoulder and it dropped over the ledge. What progress he had made with her would probably be lost now that she was drugged with wine spring and in the arms of Lathandrian.

* * *

From the darkened purple bushes, the Lunaris dragon and the scholar watched the chaotic dance of the fey.

"What is Lathandrian celebrating?" Lianna asked.

Willyr shrugged one shoulder, "He's insane. He can do whatever he pleases, and now he would be pleased to celebrate."

She saw some of the other dragon lords in the mix of fey. Telonge was spinning around with his mate with a great smile on his lips. Callath swung close by at one point with an Angelis.

Angelis' were a light fey creature, very graceful and ethereal looking with large feathered wings, but had crystal clear eyes. They were also a bit on the reclusive side in the old world. Lianna explained that they looked like Angels. Willyr smirked and told her a tale of how a mischievous Angelis approached a man hard of hearing, and when asked what manner of creature it was, it replied truthfully. The man hard of hearing thought it had said, 'Angel' and from then on the Angelis were mistaken for creatures of the new order.

They saw Thalen trying to get someone to dance with him, but failing. Lianna was tired of watching others.

She grabbed Willyr's hand, "Take me dancing."

He let out a sudden laugh but pulled her back into the bushes, "That would be well but I would look silly dancing with myself."

She raised a brow in confusion but then realized, "Oh, that's right. I cannot be seen to those I haven't talked to."

"We can move down there," he nodded toward the stairs that led to the silver pool.

The music gradually was heard less and less as they made their way to the bottom. It started to rain, so they ended up standing under an overhanging mushroom head.

"I can see why you never wanted to leave here," Lianna stared at the sky. He pulled her close, starting to sway his body to the rhythm, "We're alone here."

She didn't know whether he meant they were alone by the silver pool or alone in the Realm. It was true either way.

They danced slowly and not at all in the way the fey above them were moving. Lianna laid her head on his chest with a melancholy expression. He looked curiously down upon her. "What's the matter?"

She didn't look at him, "I was just thinking of my husband."

She felt him tense, "What of him?"

"I keep thinking of what was going through his mind before he died. Did he think of me? What would he have said to me if he had the chance?" she pulled out of Willyr's embrace suddenly, "I think I just would have liked to know that he still loved me, he was always gone and I hadn't seen him in months—I had only been married him to him for three years and it was an arranged marriage at that. I was happy to have him but for him to be away for so long, I wonder if he was happy to have me as well."

Willyr took her by her shoulders and made her face him, "He still loved you."

"How can you even say that?"

"Because I am here, looking at you, and I find it impossible for any male not to love you."

Lianna's sadness melted away into wide smile. Willyr concluded his observation with a kiss that was felt so deep, the ground must have rumbled beneath them. When she opened her eyes, a lightning bolt struck in the distance and a loud crack of thunder sounded—echoing off the valley walls. They stared out at the silver pool which reflected the darkness above, and the bursts of lightning threading from cloud to cloud. She kissed him again, and again.

"_I_ am happy to have _you_."


	16. The Dances

Alys knew something was amiss when she started to feel funny. Her stomach felt like it was full of bubbles. Lathandrian's twirling only dizzied her more. They danced through the almost suspended droplets of water. Lathandrian caused the rain around them to only dampen their clothes and hair in a cool relief from the hot air that was being created from the bodies around them. She felt herself smile though and enjoy the company of the divine—the way he held her as they danced, and how he studied her but not with consideration.

"I need to stop, I feel dizzy!" Alys told him with a laugh.

He halted and led her out of the dancing. He handed her another glass of the mauve-colored drink. She shook her head, refusing it as it had already made her feel lighter than usual.

"What's the matter?"

"I just need to sit for a few moments, that's all," she sighed.

He inclined his head and took a seat next to her, "Did you have a nice chat with _Selendrile_?"  
"I...it was very formal. He may have apologized to me," Alys said, holding her temples. Her mind was foggy, and it had the hardest time remembering the slightest thing. Lathandrian looked very concerned about that piece of information.

"What were you going to ask him before I joined you?"

"I can't remember right now, but I _am_ always asking him questions."

"He doesn't tell you much, does he?"

"I dislike that," Alys shook her head.

Lathandrian nodded, seeming satisfied. He stood and left her to sooth her mind. She frowned, trying to remember what Selendrile had said. It was something about her. He said she was blind? She knew she felt better afterwards at least—at his words, whatever they had been.

"What are you doing all by yourself?" a young fellow joined her.

He wasn't a faerie, or Angelis for he had no wings.

"I got dizzy from the dancing."

"Why?"

"I drank something."

"Open your mouth," the youth said.

"Beg pardon?" she raised a brow and scooted away from him.

"Open your mouth," he nodded. He didn't take her hint and scooted closer.

She reluctantly let her jaw open and the strange youth poked his face so close, the hair on his head tickled her nose. He took a sniff of her breath and pulled away.

"You've been drinking wine spring, you have."

"What is it?"  
"A potent alcohol. If you aren't accustomed to it, you might feel dizzy or forgetful. Regular drinkers of it like myself, it only makes silly and light."

Alys studied the young man. He looked about her age but with medium, flippant, dark locks of hair with golden highlights. His eyes would have been a normal green but his pupils were slitted, like a cat's.

"So you're a human too?"

She nodded but then she wondered what he meant by his statement, and stared at him for explanation. He seemed to know of her curiosity and grinned but didn't oblige her with an explanation.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, but—" she had hardly time to protest before the strange youth grabbed her up and pulled her back into the dancing fray. The raindrops were now falling fast and not in the manner like before. She could feel the coldness drip down her skin. Her new dancing partner was only grinning wide as the rain slicked his hair to the sides of his head.

"What did you mean, when you asked me if I was human _too_?"

"I only meant, that I know of another one in the Realm. She was mine for a day but was taken away by a dragon."

"WHO?"  
"The one who can drink wine-spring like a champion."

Alys racked her brain, trying to decide if he meant Lianna or Varisca. She couldn't decide.

"What was she like?"  
"She was a lovely brunette, and ill-tempered before the drinking."

"That is Varisca. She's an evil sorceress and tried to kill me!"

The young male nodded his head, as if he wasn't surprised, or he didn't believe her. She couldn't tell.

"Which dragon took her?"

"The one of the shining sun."

Alys knew that it was Moshire. Why was Moshire so protective of that woman? She was obviously only out to destroy all of dragon-kind.

They continued twirling, causing Alys to dizzy once more.

She saw Telonge dancing with a pretty brunette. Their eyes met and Alys was surprised to see his smile turn to a frown as he left his partner abruptly.

"Gryphon, be gone!"

The Gryphon stuck out his tongue and leapt away when Telonge swiped at him. He flitted into the crowd of fey and couldn't be seen anymore. Alys stumbled backward at the sudden movement. She fell to the ground and it caused the skirt of her golden dress to poof out.

_How rude to leave in the middle of a dance!_ Alys frowned and made a frustrated noise.

"He wasn't bothering you too badly, was he sweet cake?" Telonge took her hand and helped her stand. To his surprise she latched onto him in a hug.

He only laughed and patted her back.

"I haven't seen much of you as of late, and it feels like the joy in me is drained when you're not around and being nonsensical."

"I've missed you too. I think I missed the sides of your face the most. They bulge out when you smile."

She did smile and he pinched her cheek. She could remember when being around the dragon of the Sparkling Stars irritated her to wits end, but would never feel that way again of him.

"Would you like to share a dance?" he asked with a bow.

She nodded and they joined the dancers once more. This was her fourth dancing partner that evening. She wondered if any other girl was so lucky. The wine spring must have ended its tirade of dizziness for now Alys felt light and happy.

The rain receded a bit and was no longer in a hard downpour. Alys wasn't soaked but felt adequately wet from the weather. She and Telonge were in a lively sort of jig—they spun around in large circles whilst holding each other's wrists tightly. They both laughed as the rain fell on their faces. She thought she caught sight of Selendrile, and she stumbled over her feet, causing Telonge to trip and fall, dragging her down with him. They sat in the courtyard puddles, laughing loudly.

The dancers continued without them, flowing past them as if they were rocks in a river. She noticed that the puddles underneath everyone's feet, would splash but all the little drops of water would stay suspended, and it created a wondrous sight. Millions of little water droplets—silver and hanging around them. That meant that Lathandrian was near.

It was hard to glance between the dancers, as they moved quickly and there was little opportunity to see through them. She did not see Selendrile but she did catch sight of Lathandrian but not a few feet away.

Alys scrambled to stand, using Telonge's clothing as a hold for stability. He seemed to see Lathandrian as well, but his laughter was gone and his brow fixed in worry. Lathandrian was shouting at someone—so loud that the roar of his voice could be heard over the music, but not his words.

In a brief second, the crowd parted, and she saw who that 'someone' was—Lallielle.

The beautiful bird-woman was shaking her head with a frightful expression. Lathandrian grabbed her with a visually rough force and pulled her close, whispering something into her ear. Her eyes widened and he threw her back so hard she fell to the ground. Alys wanted to stop him and Telonge gently restrained her, sensing her unwise intentions. One of the Realm knew never to interrupt Lathandrian.

Aerend stepped in then. He threw a dreadful glare at the divine but otherwise made no moves to fight and took Lallielle away as she started sobbing those frightful, red tears. Lathandrian straightened himself up with a charming grin, noticing that his subjects had stopped celebrating to watch the distasteful scene. He clapped and they took it to mean, '_back to before_,' as they started to dance once more. Lathandrian scanned the crowd and spotted Alys. His smile only grew wider and he began to move towards them.

"What was he doing to her?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"I don't know," Telonge shook his blonde curls with a loss.

Alys felt his grip on her hand tighten when Lathandrian approached them.

"Dear Alys, you are _popular_ tonight," he stated with a sweeping bow.

"Yes. Yes I am," she had to agree. She crossed her arms and studied one of the near-suspended droplets of water around them. She was just about to poke it curiously but Lathandrian interrupted her.

"I tire of dancing, won't you join me?"

She apprehensively took his hand and gave Telonge a farewell glance.

They walked out of the dancing, clear into the palace before she had to ask.

"Where are we going?"

"We're leaving the celebration."

"Yes, but _where_ are we going?"

"You ask too many questions, dear Alys. Didn't you ever hear of how curiosity killed the cat?"

She did. When she was a child, Risa's mother chided Alys all the time about her never-waning curiosity. Maybe if people answered her questions and were honest, she wouldn't have to be so curious. She bit her tongue but couldn't help but to feel it was good to be curious in questionable situations, and she just felt safer to be curious about anything Lathandrian did in general. However. having curiosity or not whilst in the Realm could very well kill either way.


	17. The Desire

Alys was most curious to the reason why Lathandrian had left the celebration early—after all, he had been anticipating it since he first came up with the idea. His conversation with Lallielle must have had gone sour, and she was curious to what they had been discussing for him to get so angry. She noticed the way the bird-woman was tensed in the divine's presence, and couldn't help but to notice the haunting scars that were crossed up her arm. She remembered Selendrile, and the way he spoke to her—and finally _what_ he had spoken to her. She still felt a tingle or two in her but it could have been because of the subtle clues Selendrile had laid out for her—the hope of his love—and not the wine spring. Lathandrian was looking out the windows that faced down upon the courtyard, he was frowning.

Alys was feeling light headed, and felt a bubble in her throat and hiccupped. This caught Lathandrian's attention. He smiled mischievously and came nearer. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel great!" she popped a nervous giggle.

"What were you going to ask Selendrile before I found you?"

Alys paused to think—he had already asked her before. Why was he so concerned? She shook her head because it wasn't any of Lathandrian's business, so she smiled and replied, "It doesn't matter."

He slyly wrapped his arms around her, and moved his mouth not but inches from her neck. He was not easily deterred. "It matters to _me._"

Then, he kissed the skin of her neck, gently trying to caress the truth out of her. He planted kisses on her shoulders and then across her collarbone. His hands began to undo the laces of the gown's outer corset. When his lips reached hers she stopped him.

She was breathless, her cheeks were flushed, and there was uneasiness in her eyes.

"I need…I should change into something else, this dress is actually very heavy and puts a great weight on me."

Lathandrian raised a concerned brow but stepped away and gave a small nod, "Very well."

He turned and left the room to give her privacy, as he had found out she was absolutely stubborn when it came to her modesty.

As soon as he was gone she collapsed onto the bed with a long breath. She did not trust Lathandrian any longer, and feared of what he was trying to do. His kisses were thrilling but they felt wrong. She finally realized that his kisses were not from love, nor adoration, but from calculation and conceit.

She stood again and studied her reflection in the tall mirrors. The gown was tricky and her arms were impossible to bend and undo the remainder of the laces down her back. So she started to remove the pins that held her hair up. Her hair was damp and a darker brown because of the rain. It was curly at the ends from being shaped up for so long. She liked its length though. It had grown back enough so that it was feminine enough but not too long to be bothersome.

"Do you need help with that?" she heard a husky male voice from the entryway.

She gasped and spun around, shocked to see, of all beings—Selendrile.

"What are you…where is? How did you get past?" she was at a loss, and could only rattle off half thought-out questions. She was flustered at his stealthy entrance and the way he was gazing at her—it was nothing she had ever seen in his eyes before—but couldn't place the emotion, as per usual.

Selendrile only smiled, "Lathandrian is…_preoccupied_ at the moment."

She wondered how that was possible. She sighed, and looked back to her reflection. She had a lot to sigh about but was surprised that he didn't mention anything of it. He stepped behind her and fingered the laces that were barely undone, "Did you need help or not?"

She reached behind her back, barely missing a hit to Selendrile's face, and her fingertips barely brushed the laces. She couldn't be free of the gown without his aid.

"Fine, help me but _only_ untie the laces," she huffed.

He brushed the hair from her neck and she held her breath. His fingers were nimble and she felt the pressure of the corset release as he quickly unthreaded the laces.

"How did you manage to get into this by yourself?"

Alys let out a breath, "He can dress and undress anything with the snap of his fingers." At her own comment, she wondered why Lathandrian hadn't just snapped her into something more comfortable. Oh well, she shook away her never ending questions and focused back to the dragon prince.

She felt the gown lose slack and pulled away, "It's beyond me to why he dressed me like you."

"What do you mean?"

She waved her hand over the sleek material, presenting the golden scales.

Selendrile nodded, "Perhaps he was trying to temp me."

Alys smirked, "Tempt you to do what?"

His hands found hers and he pulled her in close to him. She couldn't help but to let him. There was a comforting presence about him. Her heart beat faster when he leaned down and kissed her. It was a slow kiss just like the one he had given her—what seemed so long ago—in the forest. It made all her anger melt away, she forgot why she had been so angry with him, she forgot his horrible lies, and could only be preoccupied with the softness of his lips. This time, she wouldn't end it. She needed his kiss, to reassure her that he cared for her and that he wouldn't leave her, not for the world.

His arms tightened around her and their bodies pressed closer. His kiss was suddenly harder and more desperate. He backed her into the mirror, moving his kiss lower along her neck. Her breaths became shallow and her body was impassioned by the dragon-youth's touch. He was teasing her though, as his lips once again found hers.

The kissing, the slight caress of his fingers along her shoulders, and his embrace was like a dream. She felt light and smiled beneath his lips.

Suddenly, his hands were on her waist, and one was hitching up the skirt of the gown. She gasped, as his fingers lightly stirred the skin of her thigh—it was highly delightful and a new sensation all together. She knew it was an intimate gesture, and her heart skipped a beat when she realized that she _wanted_ Selendrile's intimacy. She had seen what was beneath his clothes—and could only want, in her deepest thoughts, the warmth of his skin—the warmth of his body against hers. She let his hand slide further across her leg, awakening the skin that had never known any other's touch.

"What were you going to ask me, before Lathandrian interrupted us?" Selendrile spoke quickly, his breath short, and his voice husky.

Alys thought it odd and a little bit frustrating that he would ask the same question Lathandrian had. It wasn't so important, her question. She shook her head, "I'll tell you later."

"Why not now?"

She took his face in her hands and gave him a long kiss. He happily shut up and continued to slide his hands over her waist.

"Selendrile…" she closed her eyes and mumbled softly—goose bumps forming all over her body.

"Yes, dear Alys?"

Her eyes snapped open in alarm. She shrunk away from him. Her expression suddenly fearful—_dear Alys_ was something that was never uttered by the Prince of Dragons, but another.

He smiled a wicked smile and the purple of his eyes changed to gold, and the whites filled with a liquid black. She watched in horror as the Selendrile façade vanished and was replaced by none other than the divine.

"I must say, you are more perceptive than _Sasinna_ was. Selendrile chose better this time."

Alys felt wronged and confused, she started backing away from him while tightly holding her dress up against her, "What do you mean by that?"

Lathandrian caught her by the shoulder and whispered, "Sasinna thought she was making love to Selendrile from start to finish—she did not realize, until the end that it was not Selendrile next to her in bed."

Alys pulled away with a stagger. Her mind was racing. Was he saying that he _seduced_ Sasinna by using the guise of Selendrile? It was wrong! She glared at the divine.

"You tricked me."

"No, _you_ tricked _me_." Lathandrian hissed, he pulled his hand back and struck the side of her face. Alys yelped and scrambled to the far side of the bed as he came at her, tears stinging her eyes. He yanked her back by her arm, "You told me that you disliked him, and yet I find that hardly believable when you are more willing to accept his lust over mine.

Alys blushed but wasn't daunted by his anger, "You used magic on me! You charmed me into letting you…your Selendrile disguise do that to me!"

Lathandrian's anger seemed to be replaced with amusement, he gave a laugh to which Alys couldn't decipher. "Dear Alys, I did no such thing."

She frowned, at his obvious lie.

"You did that yourself. The wine spring loosened you up, I might say, but there was no magic, no trickery on my part that made you so willing to accept his embrace. That's why you are the _liar_, and not I."

Alys shook her head in disbelief. She had to remind herself that it wasn't Selendrile who was holding her moments before. Selendrile wouldn't kiss her like that, or touch her as Lathandrian had—and it was a heavy disappointment. She shook her head once more, as her mind was close to breaking.

"Now tell me what you were going to ask him."

Alys saw the violent madness reach Lathandrian's face, she swallowed her tears and shook her head—Lathandrian was not going to have his way now.

He continued to glare but sighed at her stubbornness and licked his lips, "Oh and one other thing."

Her gaze snapped up to him, wondering what other nonsense he had to say.

"You really mean _nothing_ to my champion, Selendrile."

Alys stood at once, her fists crunched into balls, tears threatening to explode from her eyes, her adrenaline and heart all running so fast it would break through her body. "How would you know!?"

"You were never told that his dear, beloved _Sasinna_ had been a _mortal_."

Alys's fists unraveled, her mind not processing Lathandrian's words.

"_Sasinna_ was a human. He loved her enough to offer her immortality—and have her to be like him. He has done no such thing to you. If you meant _anything_ to him at all, he would have at least mentioned it to you."

Alys screamed, and she hurled one of the bedroom's many decorative vases at him. Her tears were flowing, and her throat was raw from the deep screams of outrage. He had to be lying! Lathandrian caught it easily, and set it on the floor. He started towards her and there was only one voice in her head, the echo of Lallielle's '_you must escape_.'

Alys knew that if she didn't try now, the divine really _would_ end up controlling her. She pivoted, to catch a running start but Lathandrian stepped on the train of her dress. The beautiful gown ripped up the side, and she crashed into the glass windows that led to the balcony. She laid for a moment, a great pain searing up her arm. The rain fell upon her and she saw a puddle of red form near her shoulder. Still, she stood up and continued to get away. He was stepping through the broken glass. She peered down at the courtyard—the fey were still celebrating. She pulled herself over the ledge and dropped the eight or so feet below. She limped through the crowd, and they only paid little attention to her as she pushed through them with a wild desperation.

She finally was out of the mass, and found herself by the overlook—the place she had left the _real _Selendrile. He was not there. She glanced around madly for any sign of him, any blur of golden hair. She stopped when she spotted the dragon-youth, and a great relief filled her. He hadn't seen her yet and she was just taking a step to go to him when that faerie, the one Lathandrian had called '_Aura', _appeared in a brilliant shimmer and embraced Selendrile closely. Alys froze in her step, her heart taking a dive—it was true then, she really _did _mean nothing to him.

Lathandrian appeared from thin air then. Alys screamed in an angry fear, wailing and grabbing the attention of the fey around her. He was wearing a smug manner of a grin and was quickly drawing near. She had nowhere to run without Lathandrian catching her. She gave them all a horrible glare and then, without considering the consequences, spun around and leapt off the edge of the overlook.


	18. The Answers

A/N: I must absolutely apologize for leaving you with such a cliffhanger and a huge delay. School started back up so my frequent updates are no more, but I'll try to get the last of this story out when I can and you guys can just go back and read it after reading Dragon's Bait. So Really sorry guys, no really.

* * *

The fall seemed to last forever. Time was not moving to Alys. Wind tore through her hair and blew her tears away. She fell through rain, which only wetted her face once more. Her stomach was pitched to her throat and a terrible feeling of doom was cast over her. Her mind was nothing more than a scramble of emotion—heartbroken, lost, and alone. She finally hit the surface of the silver pool, and it felt like her limbs were crushed apart. The impact was felt hard through her small frame, each bone screamed for relief.

Now underwater, she was helpless. She couldn't scream for help—water would fill her insides and besides, who would bother to help her? She closed her eyes as her lungs cried for air. Her body felt lighter as it was submerged. Her arms floated at her sides but she was being pulled down by the weight of her dress. It was easy to wriggle free of, as the laces were loose and the dress was not as restrictive as it once was. Lightning could be seen, flashing above the surface. It illuminated the water for fractions of a second. She was done wondering at the world and finally she would succumb to that fate she had escaped for more than a year—to be left alone to die—unloved and useless. Her mind was about to accept that fact, but was harshly interrupted.

An underwater rumble sounded as the current pushed her forward in a great force. Her eyes snapped open but it was too dark to see through the water. A surface of sorts met with her body. She latched onto it and it lifted. She broke surface of water and sucked in mouthfuls of air, as gravity once again pulled her hard to the surface of, what now she could make out to be a claw. She was lying in the direct palm of it. She rolled over and felt there were scales attached to it, could feel the smooth yet textured surface against her cheek—and could barely lift her head to see the dragon to which it belonged. Its claw tilted, letting her out. She slid onto the shore and curled into a ball. All at once the dragon form changed into that of Selendrile.

He immediately tore off his shirt and wrapped her in it, forcing her to sit up. She gave a scream and began to cry from the pain inside her body. It felt crushed and sliced, she was still bleeding from her tumble through the glass windows—spots of red blotted the collar of his shirt where it was wrapped around her.

"My blessing was not meant for you to jump off cliffs," she heard him say. He sounded more concerned than angry. Then he took a vial from a cord around his neck, yanked the stopper out with his teeth and forced Alys to drink its contents. The liquid was sweet and brief.

She turned her head and fell into his lap. He caught her and held her by her cheeks, "Why did you jump off the overlook?"

"Are you real?" she whispered and lifted her fingers—brushing his lower lip.

"Of course I am," he knotted his brows in puzzlement and licked where she had grazed her fingers. A sudden deep wave of pain followed by a conclusive, but overwhelming relief engulfed her body and she blacked out.

---

What could only have been multiple days and nights of nightmares and horrible pains was what Alys felt. All the misfortunes, and horrors she had experienced were relived in her sleep, but she did not know she was sleeping. She tossed and turned and screamed and wailed while she dreamt of the most unpleasant things.

She saw Inquisitor Atherton's near decomposed corpse, as he chased her through St. Toby's while the townspeople stood by and simply watched. She saw Gower that despicable man—laugh at her dying father. No matter what, he would always fall and every time, it tugged her heart out of her chest in a wail. The last thing she would see was Selendrile—as he led her on with falsely charming words only to abandon her—and then she would see the haunting scars over her arms.

Her body gave a vicious jerk and she opened her eyes, focusing on her blurry surroundings. She was somewhere she had never been before, for nothing was familiar. She felt worlds better though, like she had never even been injured. The bed was soft, but not as soft as the one she was used to. She wore a smooth garment that clung to her form. She took in all with her senses. Then, she froze with tension when she realized she was not alone. Her head was laying on a soft, warm, surface—she heard a heartbeat. There was a familiar feeling of arms embracing her, but with intent of protection, not possession. Now she held her breath, fearing the body to be that of a deranged divine but she could see strands of golden hair out of the corner of her eye and let her breath out with more ease than she thought she had. Still, she was confused and tired so instead of barraging him with inquiries she yawned and shut her eyes once more—this feeling was too good to last, so she might as well enjoy it.

After a few moments, it ended.

"Are you better?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing it was over—that unquestionable comfort, and feeling of security within his arms. For now it was the time for answers.

"Yes."

His shoulder shifted out from beneath her head, so it fell to the mattress where she rolled her body over to look at always she had many questions for him, but figured there was no use in asking, as he never answered fully.

Still, she couldn't help herself.

"Was Sasinna a mortal?"

He might have been startled by the way his eyes enlarged, as if he never expected her to ask _that_ question in a million years. He opened his mouth and then closed it—and swallowed before looking away, "Yes."

She nodded, feeling the wound in her chest grow. She turned away so she didn't have to look at him, "Tell me why you lied to me. Tell me why you said I could not follow you. Tell me why you said I meant nothing to you. Tell me why you never told me Sasinna used to be _just like me_."

There was a long silence, and perhaps he would ignore her requests or perhaps he was collecting his words—either way Alys still couldn't trust him fully.

"I will answer your inquiries, but only if you tell me why in the world you jumped off a cliff."

For once, _he_ had a question. She turned her head and glared at him. "I jumped off the overlook because Lathandrian was attacking me. I jumped off because there was absolutely no one to turn to but myself—since you were busy being embraced by a tart faerie."

A few different flickers of unnamable emotions passed through his amethyst eyes.

"He attacked you?"

He was staring at her in a way that tugged on her nostalgia, for those days when they had been traveling across the land, and he would always look at her trying to gauge a reason to her words. She bit her lip and looked elsewhere, to try and stop the image of Lathandrian-as-Selendrile kissing her and touching her with such a seduction.

She didn't have to answer for Selendrile to know. He threw a curse under his breath and laid his hand on her shoulder. She flinched and he quickly removed it, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and moving away golden strands of hair that had fallen in front of them, "What happened?"

"He tricked me."

"How?"

It took a lot of her concentration not to make eye contact—in fear she would melt all over again—even if he were the _real_ Selendrile.

"He left me to change…and then he came back but," Alys took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She recalled his hands on her skin, released her breath, and opened her eyes, this time staring straight into his. "He was _you._"

His brows furrowed—obviously puzzled, "I don't understand. What do you mean he was _me?_"

"He shape shifted into your form. I…don't know but I thought he was you and he tried to seduce me. When I refused he came after me."

Selendrile was gathering all of this new information into his head and becoming angrier at Lathandrian's actions. He spoke softly but outraged, "That is how he got to Sasinna."

Alys gingerly pulled herself out of the bed and stood to glance around the room. It was a brighter room than she was used to. It was decorated with yellows and light browns. It was smaller than the one at Lathandrian's palace and doubted she was in the Hall of Darkness. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders even though it wasn't the slightest bit cold. Maybe she just felt vulnerable.

"It's been awhile since we've been alone together like this," she noted.

"Not since the dungeons."

She whirled around on her heel and frowned, "You mean that time when you told me you were done with me?"

"Alys, I…" Selendrile began to calm her but she was annoyed.

She shook her head, "I don't matter to you at all. You lie and you keep secrets."

When he didn't say anything, she turned her back on him, breathing in heavily in order not to spill any tears. He had saved her once more, and that made it difficult for her to fully loathe him.

"I did lie to you," he said after a few moments. She tensed her shoulders but remained standing with her back at him. There was a complete calm in his voice as he continued, "You see, when we were in the dungeon I knew I would be recalled to the Realm or either destroyed by Varisca—either way you would have lost me. True, I could have let you follow me but at that time I was for certain Lathandrian would have destroyed you—and I could not let that happen so I lied. I made you to never want to follow me. I wanted you to be out of harm's way."

She could have accepted his answer but sill was curious. She ran her fingers through her hair impatiently, "Then why did you bring me regardless?"

There was silence.

She turned back to face him, to let him know she was done with sitting by without answers. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows and tilting his head as their eyes locked.

"Because I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat, as if all the air was sucked out of the room and all she had to live on was the gulp of breath in her. She. Did. Not. Expect. That. Answer. Her hands were shaking so she wiped them against her sides. She barely shook her head in disbelief with wide, green eyes.

"You don't believe me?" There seemed to be amusement in his voice all of a sudden. He pulled himself up and approached her. She was in such a state of shock—at his admission, at the seriousness, at the sincerity of his words—she couldn't even form a thought to move away.

He embraced her tightly and spoke gently in her ear, "The only reason I would ever lie to you, is to protect you."

She gave a small cry and sunk to the floor and he followed her, all the while keeping her close as she did finally let out all of her sobs. She felt like a baby for crying so much but also couldn't deny she had been through a lot of emotions in the past day. His chin rested on her head while her face was smothered into his collarbone. He stroked her hair and her fingers managed to wrap into loose strands of his. He took her chin and cleared away a stray tear about to drip off her nose.

"You are stubborn, have a limitless curiosity, ask too many questions, sigh more often than breath, but you bring me a joy no one else does and Alys—for that—I love you."

Then he closed his eyes and kissed her. It was real, and she could feel the difference between his kiss and Lathandrian's false one—Selendrile's was a thousand times better because it was true.

After a few long moments she withdrew with her eyes shut tight and a small smile, "Thank you."


	19. The Realization

A/N: Still apologizing for the long time-in-between updates. As I said, last semester of college (ever!) and a tough one at that. Enjoy! :)

* * *

There was a room, deep underground, below the colorful flora of the land. It ran underneath an old part of the Realm and was a pretty well kept secret throughout the Realm. The Dragon lords knew of it, but not any others. Not until Moshire revealed it's existence to the woman who had spent most of her life swearing to destroy him.

"What does it hold?" Varisca inquired as Moshire stood in front of the stone doors.

"Teeth, among other things," he said and turned to face the door.

Varisca opened her mouth with a puzzled frown, about to ask him if she heard correctly. She stopped though as he began to speak a different language. A symbol of the sun was carved in the center of the door, and it glowed a pale yellow after Moshire's words finished.

He grabbed her hand and pushed open the doors as easily if they were made of timber. They entered a downward corridor that was blanketed in dark. Varisca was apprehensive to enter such a dank place—she tensed and began to step backward but the doors closed them in. Moshire whistled down the corridor, it echoed many times and they seemed to be waiting for something.

Her grip tightened on his hand and an ancient wind gusted at them from somewhere deep on down the corridor. Varisca gasped as many little pale yellow lights appeared and languidly floated in the air all in abstract movement.

"What are they?"

"Glows. They inhabit all darkness and are invisible until they hear a whistle."

"How surreal," Varisca mused and reached out to touch one, but it was the same as touching air. They continued down the corridor, as they went deeper it became colder.

"So what is the purpose of our being here?"

"Before the Realm, when we inhabited the human world, our kind did perish at the hands of them. So instead of letting the humans take dragon parts for their greedy vices, we made sure to collect the bodies of our deceased."

"Dragon Teeth only hold the magical property of lasting beauty, the queen owns a bracelet made from one."

She felt him tense, realizing he knew already. He knew that the bracelet was made from Sasinna's teeth—the dragoness that she had destroyed.

He was silent.

"I'm sorry,"

Then softly, "That is why Selendrile will _never_ forgive you."

She held her breath, remembering the time before.

_Varisca approached the golden dragon. It had been sighted by itself, roaming about in a most peculiar manner—the first dragon seen in quite awhile. The dragon eyed her suspiciously as it sat by the lake edge. She noticed the golden hide and for a moment thought it was Selendrile. The dragon before her was smaller though and with a gaze of green eyes, Varisca knew it was not Selendrile but his mate—Sasinna._

_She had to briefly wonder why Sasinna was alone, and now appearing after hundreds of years after the last sighted dragon. Varisca could detect sadness in the beast but had no sympathy because a dragon had destroyed her family and she was going to return the favor. She threw out her arms and a supernatural wave of death struck the gold dragoness. _ _There, she had set the events in motion—now the other dragons would come out of hiding, and she would gladly destroy all of them._

She let her breath out slowly, "I understand now."

The corridor widened and the Glows spread around what was a large underground room. There were teeth; dragon teeth standing tall like statues –ones taller than the tallest man and ones as high as her waist.

"Dragon teeth remain sharp as razors no matter how ancient they become. I'm pretty sure if you slice one of these through Lathandrian's heart, he would surely be destroyed."

"They're awfully big to wield," she touched the ivory-looking surface but withdrew her finger quickly with a shriek. Moshire took her hand and found her fingertips were bleeding.

"Be careful," he softly chided, bringing her fingers to his lips and cleaning away the blood. Then he took a kerchief out of the pocket of his vest and wrapped it tightly around her fingers.

"Thank you," she said but then huffed when she looked back toward the dragon tooth she had touched, "If I can't even touch it, how _will_ I wield it?"

"You can wear gloves, I assume that's what the stone cutter wore when he went to work on Sasinna's teeth." She glared at him for a moment for rubbing it in that she was a murderer of his kind, she was truly sorry for her actions but now no one would forgive her. Maybe it was what she deserved.

"This is the best way I can think to have you end the divine. We shall discuss it with Selendrile as he is at my hideaway as we speak."

"Why?"

"Lathandrian will be hunting him. He took Alys."

"How does such a creature come to be enamored of a human?"

Moshire looked at her for a moment, wondering if she were asking about his enamourment of her or Selendrile's enamourment of Alys. He decided the latter.

"Well, Selendrile and Alys are meant to be together."

"How so?"

He rubbed the toe of his boot into the dirt while holding her injured hand, "Selendrile isn't aware of it but Alys has pieces of Sasinna's energy in her. Ghodiva was a creation divine and made it so that when a human died, their energy was redistributed into another born."

"Energies? You mean like a person's _spirit_?"

He shrugged a shoulder, "If that's what _you_ call it."

"Sasinna was fey though. Does Lathandrian make it that way for fey?"

He shook his head, "No. Lathandrian is a perfectionist and must dictate every energy and body of his creations. Since we are not born but created, he will keep our energies if we die, and not recycle them through. Sasinna was a human though, before Lathandrian changed her for Selendrile. Even though she was fey, her energy rightly belonged to Ghodiva."

Varisca was very amazed at this phenomena. She hadn't known Sasinna was human, and felt even worse for destroying her. She frowned all of a sudden, "How do you know all this?"

"I read it in the Book of Ages."

---

Alys stared upward, not really looking at anything—only the thatched ceiling of the room. Her thoughts had withdrawn deep into her mind. Looking inside of her. She realized she was no longer a girl—she had grown from a simple peasant, a fifteen-year-old- tinsmith's daughter with no prospects. She had been on a journey that even the most daring adventurers would shudder at having. She had seen evil, and learned about trust, friendship, and maybe even love. She had been lied to, tricked, and hurt. Yet she was laying somewhere in a world that could be made of pure imagination, and felt light as a feather. A happiness she never thought to possess again filled her from toes to head—she was _loved_.

Isn't that what every woman wanted? Someone to love them? She was now nearly seventeen, the age that Selendrile forever looked. Most girls her age already had children. Then again, she didn't feel out of place among her peers, as she didn't wish for any children. Neither Lianna nor Varisca had children and they were both older than Alys. There was more to life than marrying, raising a family, etc. She glanced down to her dragon and a small smile played at her lips.

Selendrile's head lay on her bosom, his golden hair was soft and spread across her chest, tickling her bare skin. He was not asleep, but just comfortably resting there. She had come to accept that she loved him as well, fully, despite everything that had happened. That was the reason she kept saving him, and worrying about him. Even under Lathandrian's influence she could not give him up. They were in a moment of peacefulness they both deserved after the many trials they had been through.

In her intense happiness, she had momentarily forgotten the divine. He would not be pleased at the new development.

"What about Lathandrian?"

Selendrile sighed at her for ruining their peace. "I expect he is displeased, but we are hidden at the moment."

"Where?"

"The Shine."

Alys raised her eyebrow for an elaboration.

He sighed once more, "We are in the hideaway of Moshire."

"He let Varisca live!" Alys blurted, remembering the haughty dragon-loathing woman.

"I know."

"She tried to kill you!"

"I know."

Alys let out an irritated breath, "Then _why_ aren't you going to do anything about it?"

He lifted his head and propped himself up on an elbow, "She is the only one who is able to destroy our divine."

Her eyes widened in surprise. Selendrile told her about the Book of Ages and the curse of Lathandrian.

"So he will be destroyed?" Alys knew Lathandrian was a creature with a beastly disposition but she wished there was a better way to solve their problems than to kill or fight.

Selendrile took her by her shoulders and looked at her seriously.

"I was forced to relinquish my fey responsibility of you. By the laws that are set forth on this land, Lathandrian does rightfully have you. Until he is dead, that shall always be true and we cannot be together."

"What about now? Am I some sort of sick property to you creatures? I do _not_ rightfully belong to anyone!"

"You are not property, it is more about guardianship than anything. We may be together right now but it deeply prohibited. So you see why Lathandrian _must_ be destroyed."

Alys crossed her arms, unhappy once more. Was there any chance of them simply running away together? _No, Lathandrian would find us no matter what_, she sadly realized.

His hand found her cheek and he lightly brushed it, causing her to look at him. His face was serious, and the amethyst of his jeweled eyes had a look too far removed for Alys to comprehend its meaning. She fiercely embraced him nonetheless, sensing his worry—because it was obvious he was, as she had not seem him in such a state in all her time of knowing him.

His arms were long as they wrapped around her and held her to his torso.

"I love you with all my being," Alys admitted, whispering against his chest.

He wiped her tousled hair from her face and kissed her on the forehead, "I know."

She pulled his chin down and kissed his lips, a distraction from her annoyance at his draconian arrogance.

The lazy afternoon sunshine created beams of light that hit a spot on the floor, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow obscure it.

They heard a '_peep'_ and broke their kiss to see the increasing amount of little blackbirds perching on the windowsill. When they couldn't all fit there, they flew into the room, surrounding the lovers.

"Lallielle what is the meaning of this?" Selendrile demanded.

The birds eventually settled atop one another and the form of the Parra emerged. She stood before them, and there were subtle red tear trails under her eyes. Her eyes darted around the room, seeming to look everywhere and anywhere but the couple.

"I'm sorry, Selendrile."

He frowned, "Did Lathandrian hurt you again?"

She didn't respond, "He broke into my mind—he knows everything. He knows the book is here, he knows we know how to destroy him, and he knows about Willyr's human."

"Lianna!" Alys gasped, suddenly fearful for her friend.

Selendrile threw a curse angrily and was up on his feet fast, "Then we must waste no time…"

"And…he knows where you are now. I'm so sorry." Lallielle spoke softly.

Selendrile lifted his hand and saw it was translucent against the air. Lathandrian was fading him, and going to transport him to the place he was currently. Selendrile spun around and as that happened Lallielle disbanded her form and the numerous birds flew around the room with tragic sounding '_peeps_'.

"Alys! Find a place to hide, do not seek me for Lathandrian will only take you again and this time he will make sure you don't remember me."

She shook her head, fear growing in her heart as she saw his body fade. "No, I cannot leave you. If he is to destroy you, he should destroy me as well!"

She launched herself at him and clung to his waist as they both disappeared from the room.


	20. The Life and Death

It was dusk in the Realm. The land was warm and still slightly damp from the night before. There was a still quiet surrounding the palace of Lathandrian, a furious jealousy seething with silent anger could be felt to the creatures passing by.

The world of the female mortal and the draconian Prince reunited in fragments. First they could feel—he could feel the soft warmth of her skin against his, and she could feel his arms holding her tightly. Next, they breathed in the muggy scent of the world re-shaping around them, and Selendrile's more acute senses smelled the angry divine. Alys felt herself pressed tighter against him.

They dropped to the ground, and Alys gasped as she stared at the amazing pink and purple of the dusk above her. _This world is so beautiful_. She recognized they were in the courtyard in front of Lathandrian's palace.

The underside of Selendrile's jaw obscured her view, she saw it was tensed—the muscles in his neck were clearly defined. She arched her neck and caught a glimpse of an upside-down Lathandrian standing at the entrance of his palace. Even she could tell that a dreadful malice consumed him.

"Selendrile, how nice of you to return with what you have stolen," he sneered.

"It's not stealing if the object wishes not to return," Selendrile boldly stated, and stood, grabbing Alys by her wrist and placing her behind him—to put as much distance between her and Lathandrian as possible.

"First order of business," Lathandrian held out his hands. A snap of his fingers rendered Lianna by his side. She was wide-eyed but there seemed to be a fog in them as if she wasn't all there.

"Lianna!" Alys cried and stepped forward but Selendrile restrained her for her own safety.

"A beautiful mortal she is, no doubt," Lathandrian purred as Lianna eerily stood beside him and stared into nothing. "She is no threat to _me_ however and I am quite annoyed that no one informed me of her presence."

"What about Willyr?" Selendrile growled.

Lathandrian's brows rose and he did smile thoughtfully, "Yes, I was surprised he was the one hiding her—but he _knows_ that he broke my laws and is accepting the consequences, unlike _you_."

"He would fight for her but he fears you!"

"As should _you_," Lathandrian hissed. His scowl was daunting but it softened a bit and he straightened up. He leaned over and whispered something into Lianna's ear.

Selendrile tensed and his grip tightened on Alys as they watched Lianna approach them. She seemed devastated, her face twisted into a sadness that would make the hardest hearts weep.

"Alys," she begged, holding out her arm.

Alys reached out to offer help but Selendrile cut it down, not trusting the bewitched Lianna.

"Selendrile only wants you because he has lost Sasinna. You are only a replacement. If you left right now he would only find another girl to seduce. Please, come with me and Lathandrian would treat us both like we were irreplaceable."

Alys held her breath, never considering that thought before—was she just a second thought because he no longer had Sasinna?

Selendrile bared his teeth and swiped Lianna away with too much force. She fell and hit her head amongst the stones. Alys screamed and bent down next to her. Lianna wasn't dead to her relief, just winded. Selendrile focused on Lathandrian once more, "You're trickery will not lure her away."

Lathandrian pressed his lips and snapped his fingers, and then Lallielle materialized before them.

She seemed startled, and hopped back at the sight of Lathandrian next to her.

"I have to thank you, darling, for finding them," he smoothly ran his fingers under her chin but she turned her head—obviously not pleased that he controlled her. "And now you are of no use to me anymore."

Shivers ran down Alys's back as she recalled Selendrile saying those words to her before.

Lallielle jerked her head up with those wide golden-black eyes, alarmed and before she could protest, Lathandrian snapped his fingers again.

A wind picked up, and they saw her body crumple to the ground. Her arms sprawled out, eyes open but not moving.

"You coward!" Selendrile shouted in outrage but dared not to go near her body for it only brought him closer to the divine. He stared at his former ally, who had only betrayed him because she was forced to—and an even greater anger consumed him.

Lathandrian focused on the pair, he narrowed his eyes. "What do you want to do to me now, Selendrile?"

Selendrile bit his tongue with a glare and looked away, his grasp on Alys's wrist tightening.

Lathandrian's stone lips turned to a grin—seeing his creation trying to fight the murderous urge within him.

"Do you want to tear my throat out?"

"Selendrile," Alys spoke softly seeing he was now grinding his teeth.

"DO YOU?!" Lathandrian snapped his fingers and Alys was knocked back as Selendrile grew to his true form. He roared and his tail whipped past them so fast, it caused a wind to forcibly send her sprawling to the ground. Selendrile's head was high above Lathandrian, his talons dug into the flagstones, still seeming to fight what Lathandrian was daring him to do.

"What about now?"

He didn't even have to snap his fingers before Alys was plucked from her spot behind the golden dragon and reappeared in Lathandrian's arms.

The grandest of dragons roared loudly then and lifted his claw to swipe Lathandrian's head off, but with yet another snap of Lathandrian's fingers—Selendrile was forcibly shrunk to his human form and unable to change back.

Alys pushed on Lathandrian, desperate to get away but his charm was strong, and she was less sure she wanted to escape him every panicked breath she took.

"We both know the answer," Selendrile glared starting towards them—ready to take her back with a fight.

Lathandrian shrugged a shoulder and held up a hand—Selendrile could not advance.

"Dear Alys come back to me," he smiled and stroked her cheek. A swelling rose within her head, full of pleasant thoughts—euphoria.

"NO! ALYS NO!" Selendrile bellowed and struggled madly against Lathandrian's invisible wall.

She saw Lathandrian bathed in a golden light, looking absolutely stunning and wanted to go towards him and feel that power—that light—that _magnificence._ She could hear the echoing of Selendrile's voice break into the scene though.

"_Alys!_"

_Selendrile_.

Lathandrian melted into a blur and she saw herself being embraced by the prince of Dragons, she took note of the way his cut-glass eyes regarded her and knew his love for her would not wane nor was she a replacement for Sasinna. She wanted his love more than any power or magnificence that Lathandrian had to offer. She pulled out of his grasp and felt dizzy, and screamed at the sight of Lallielle's body so near.

Lathandrian grabbed Alys's wrist tightly and tried furthering his taunts at Selendrile.

"What has happened to my warrior?"

Now Selendrile glowered, "When will you realize I will _never_ go back to what you made me to be? You have taken everything, and still despite these prompts to return me to blind rage, I still refuse to be _that_. Being in your service is a boring and lonely existence—an existence you are destined to but I don't have to be."

Lathandrian snarled and threw Alys to the ground.

"You have a rather bothersome tongue in your mouth. How were you planning to destroy me exactly? You do not have an inflicted mortal. The other mortal is _no_ threat. The path to the old world is closed—and you cannot find either. You personally are unable to end me as well."

Alys stared at Selendrile, he was rigid—angry but unable to go to her—his eyes met hers and she recognized it as his dragon look. It was a look she had used to never understand. She gasped, understanding it now as the look he gave when something was of great importance, and _she_ was of his greatest importance.

"That is for me to know, and you cannot break into my mind as easily as you did Lallielle's."

"I can still try." Lathandrian stretched out his arm and jerked it back.

Selendrile's hands immediately twisted to the sides of his head and he shouted as if he were in extreme pain—perhaps even louder than if he had been covered in iron.

"Stop it! Stop hurting him!" Alys swung her fist into Lathandrian's leg with all her might. He stepped back alarmed at her behavior—obviously she had grown stronger in her ability to resist his magic.

Selendrile saw this as a window of opportunity to grab her and he was able to move forward because of Lathandrian's lost concentration. Alys reached out to Selendrile but Lathandrian sliced his hand through the air diagonally and Alys watched in horror as Selendrile's body fell as if nothing were inside him—like every essence of his being evaporated into the air. He laid still on the stone, his arm twisted underneath his back and his face staring upward toward the sky, his eyes opened but no shine of amethyst evident.

"NO!" Alys felt a barrage of screams tear from her stomach, "NO!"

She stumbled forward in a desperate attempt to go to the fallen fey. Her breaths were fast as she fell to his side, looking him over for any signs he was pretending, any hints he was still there. She grabbed his shoulder and it was loose, no tension whatsoever was held in his form.

"Selendrile!" she cried to get his attention. He couldn't be gone—he couldn't be _dead_. She took his loose hand and held it against her cheek—praying to God, Ghodiva, or whoever would listen to make him move again. Her intake of breath then stopped all together as she felt her heart shatter.

Tears brushed her lashes, realizing he was the same as her father had been when he died. The look, the _feel_ of absence. Selendrile seemed so _young_ though. He was mighty, beautiful, mysterious, and now… gone. How could it all have ended so swiftly? Was this how it would have been if she had failed to free him from Atherton's iron, or if she had failed to step in and take Varisca's wrath? She had kept him alive all those times and a great disappointment filled her as she thought this was the one time she had failed to save him—but how could she have saved him from a divine of the greatest power they had ever seen? Tears began to fall faster from her; sobs racked her body as she held his head in her lap, his hair tangled in her fingers, his lips slightly parted. It didn't seem real, how lifeless he looked. Her tears landed on Selendrile's cheek—he looked beautiful even in death. _I won't leave you for the world_.

"Oh, dear Alys…" Lathandrian put his hand on her shoulder.

"NO!"

The wind picked up and the sky further darkened—causing a dead cold to rise in her skin. Her wails echoed across the Realm, haunting the ears of many—and it wasn't only her wails that called their attention but the definite absence of the dark fey's leader.

Alys stubbornly held Selendrile's body against her, hunched away from Lathandrian—and ignored anything he tried to do or say. She was furious at him for taking her dragon away. She knew he could kill her with the snap of his fingers as well but didn't care. Dying felt like good idea—and he would have to do it to her because she was _never_ going to let go of Selendrile.

She was suddenly yanked away from him. With a furious cry, she spun to face Lathandrian in a wild anger. "You can't even imagine how much I _loathe_ you!"

His brows rose with amusement. "Please enlighten me."

She swallowed, and glimpsed over at Selendrile's body which only fueled her anger. Her words came in a harsh, biting tone, "You might be all-powerful, but Selendrile was right when he said you are boring and lonely. You will never know _love_, or how it is to be cared for. It is a powerful feeling that gives you a sense of protection and you have taken it from me. I have _nothing _left."

Lathandrian leaned closer, still amused at her anger and in a sly way, was going comfort her—to lure her back to his charms. He felt a sudden hard pain to the side of his face almost immediately. Bone, knuckles, and fist in contact with his jaw, teeth, and cheek. He staggered to the side, not expecting such a powerful blow from one so small.

Alys stood with her chin out and holding her assaulting fist, tears still fresh in her eyes. "I hate you."

He grabbed her by her shoulder violently and drew her close; she turned her head to see Selendrile's face—still hauntingly blank. She expected to die then. Everything was gone anyway.

Lathandrian paused though, tilting his head to the side as if listening for something. Alys heard it too—a dull roar, many of them echoing in the sky. They grew louder until giant shapes emerged from the clouds—dragons.

Callath, Thalen, and Varlor transformed first and looked at the scene in horror. Aerend appeared next, and sucked in a horrified breath at the sight of Lallielle's body. "What have you done?!"

Willyr and Telonge's forms joined them. They looked furious—more than she had ever seen before. They looked murderous, raw, and she could see hints of the monsters they truly were meant to be underneath their stunning features.

Lathandrian held up his hands in a nonchalant gesture, "You see this? The consequences for defying me."

"You're despicable," Telonge spat, "The only reason we do not tear you apart where you stand is that we are unable to."

Telonge then grabbed Alys up and embraced her—knowing she was going through a lot and needed the comfort. Alys was thankful for it as she squeezed the bronzed dragon-youth tightly, crying still and trying to numb the hurt that Selendrile's death had done to her—it was burnt into her mind. Willyr went to Lianna's side, and like Alys, breathed in a sigh of relief to know she wasn't dead—unlike the Parra and the prince.

The dragons glared at Lathandrian, showing their outrage and severe disapproval at his actions. There was a louder roar from above and Moshire could be seen swooping in. Alys saw he was carrying a human on his shoulders—Varisca! Lathandrian couldn't see her though and she was holding something large and pointed. Moshire was too close for the divine's comfort so Moshire was forced to become his human form by Lathandrian's will. Varisca slid off his back as his form folded. She landing directly in front of Lathandrian and plunged the sharp object through his mid section.

Alys gasped and winced seeing the object poking out of the divine's lower back. He seemed shocked at first and then his vision seemed to clear, noticing the sorceress. He staggered back, holding his chest. Varisca turned to all with a smile of triumph—she had done it! She saw the shocked looks of the watchers and grew uneasy. Behind her, Lathandrian's lips formed into an eerie smile, and he grabbed Varisca's gloved wrist. She struggled and gave a scream, reaching out to anyone who would take her away from the lunatic divine.

"Didn't they tell you I cannot die?" he purred and to everyone's amazement he easily withdrew the dragon tooth from his body. There was no blood, for he was not a mortal. Varisca was desperate to escape his grasp and then to everyone's horror, he shoved the tooth through her. Her face broke out into pain as Lathandrian jerked the tooth in between her ribs. Bright red stained the material of her garment and grew in size.

Varisca's world began to blur, she could hear Moshire's shouts of malcontent and she focused on the being she was supposed to destroy but instead would be the one to destroy her.

"They didn't tell you….that…I?" Varisca grappled for words—not understanding how he was still there. She was told he would be destroyed, and yet he was there. Her mind was shutting down, so she reached up to her sleeve and tore the fabric of her dress until her collarbone was visible. Lathandrian peered down and his smile dropped as he registered what he was seeing—a sun shape scarred on her skin. He threw a last shocked gaze at Moshire before letting her go, backing away and screaming as an inner glow spouted out his eyes and mouth—seeming to burn him from the inside. He twisted in the same manner Selendrile had before his death, in agony. Varisca fell backwards, and Moshire caught her, sliding her away from the thrashing figure.

His body began to crack and the light glowed through, it was as if he was turning to a stone. The light was a bright blue—blinding almost—as it lit up the world around them. The cracks finally buckled and the light was the consistency of liquid as it burst out and flowed around the remaining beings in the courtyard. Alys crunched her eyes tightly closed and held on to Telonge as she felt the tremendous power breeze through her. There were words of a female echoing as it flowed through them, a stern voice that cryptically said, _"With the abolition of power, the greatest desires of those wronged are granted." _

When there was no longer a brightness behind her eyelids, she opened them again and blinked at the darkness—the night. She gasped as there were many tiny lights floating in the air—like fireflies. They were suspended in the same manner as the raindrops the night before but illuminated the entire courtyard. In the middle was a stone figure of Lathandrian, holding his head with a face frozen in agony.

Moshire looked upon the girl that he was fond of, her breaths were shallow—and coming at a struggle. He closed his eyes, knowing his greatest desire was to have her always. He seemed to recede into a foggy limbo of sorts and in the center of the world stood Varisca, unharmed.

"I thought I was protected," she said quietly.

"You were protected from fey, not divines," he sighed sadly.

"This is what I deserve don't I?"

He embraced her, relishing the softness of her skin and the scent of her nature, "Never."

She pulled away, a tear trailing down her face.

"You need to let me go, Moshire."

His topaz eyes regarded her with worry, and his hand found her cheek to brush it. She held his wrist, brought it to her lips and kissed his fingertips.

"Why must I?"

"I have forgiven you for ruining my life," she said but with a sad smile, "but my greatest desire is…is to be with my family again."

He held her closer, "How can you go if my greatest desire is for you to live?"

"You will find my energy in someone else, it may take centuries but what is that time to an immortal? Be not mournful, for my time to go should have been long ago. Farewell love."

Then the sorceress was gone as well. He opened his eyes and was not in the fog anymore. He pulled away with a cry. Varisca lay in his arms, her eyes closed and seeming peaceful. After losing her for centuries and finding her again she was lost once more.

Alys had collapsed at Telonge's feet—looking around at the bodies. She once again approached the still body that had held Selendrile. He was still limp, and her heart still felt shattered.

She caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Aerend was holding Lallielle in his arms, removing her body from the place it had fallen. Something was out of the ordinary—Aerend was smiling wide and Alys saw the Parra's chest rise and fall. She was alive? Did it have something to do with the voice they heard? _Greatest desires would be granted_. Aerend seemed to have been very fond of Lallielle—maybe his greatest desire was to have her live again. Alys gasped when Aerend set the Parra down, and she was animated—sleepy as if waking from a dream. He embraced her sweetly.

Alys felt a tug on her sleeve and nearly jumped out of her skin. She dared to look down at him as her heart accelerated. His eyes opened slowly—and recognizing it was her—his lips broke into a dazzling smile. She slammed her body into his arms where to her relief he embraced her—it was not a dream—but reality. For that moment she was comfortable and filled with a joy that could have burst her body open. Then, she pulled away.

"How?…HOW…you were…" she stammered. Her heart was thrown violently into a race at every turn of magic she witnessed.

Telonge kneeled down to help Selendrile sit up and nodded toward the stone figure. Moshire shook his head as he approached them with Varisca's body in his arms, "His power—it granted the deepest desires to all those he had wronged. Your desire was to have Selendrile live again and so it came to be. It was all a part of Ghodiva's curse, no doubt."

Alys was mildly confused and amazed—she _had_ saved him again.

She felt a grab from behind and shouted in surprise at hearing Lianna's laughter. Lianna was probably just as confused to the events that had happened but to see Alys again was a happy sight. Alys let Lianna hug her, and was thankful the scholar was alright after having such a blow to the head. When she was done hugging Alys, she found her way into Willyr's arms naturally.

Moshire set Varisca's body in front of the stone figure of Lathandrian. They gathered around, a sudden morose feeling in the air.

"How is she dead?" Alys wondered aloud. She had been told Varisca could destroy Lathandrian but yet Lathandrian had killed her. Everyone's greatest desires were granted and surely Moshire would have kept her from dying by his desire alone.

"Lathandrian must have had to face the evidence of the inflicted, otherwise he would have been destroyed immediately," Willyr tried to reason.

"Her greatest desire was to be with her family," Moshire said, cold and unmoving. He stood as rigid as the stone figure of Lathandrian, staring at her body. Selendrile sighed, and placed his hand on Moshire's back in a rare gesture of comfort. Selendrile knew how it was to lose those he loved, as had Varisca, and now Moshire unfortunately.

Moshire gave a sigh and removed Varisca's body from the ground, "I shall return to the human world to bury her—in the forest she used to live in."

He then cried a ferocious roar, and transformed to dragon—cradling her body in his talon as he took off into the dark sky.

---

That night, Alys slept curled next to her dragon when she noticed something odd, "You haven't changed into a dragon yet."

"I don't have to anymore."

"How is that?"

Selendrile considered her before answering, "Lathandrian is dead, and his rules don't apply to his creations anymore. That doesn't mean I will stay in this lower form forever, it is just useful for fitting into smaller spaces."

She crawled closer to him, lying on his torso and looking deep into his eyes. Something had been bothering her all night. She felt like she was going to break out of her skin, and had yet one more question to ask like always.

"Selendrile, did you have your desire granted when Lathandrian's power broke through you?"

He smiled slyly and his eyelids closed a tiny bit, "Why?"

She held her breath, annoyed at his games and punched his arm—though they both knew it wouldn't even hurt him. "Just tell me."

"Yes."

Her eyes widened a bit fearful. What had he been granted? Her desire was to have him live again, so what was his? "What is your greatest desire?"

He turned his head, a nervousness reached his eyes, "My greatest desire is," he spoke on an inhale and when he did let his breath out he answered, "to have you be like me."

She stopped and gaped at him, "You mean…?"

He nodded, confirming her suspicion. She felt a prickle of excitement run down her back.

"Is that why I feel funny?"

"Probably," he yawned, while leaning forward, grabbing her and dragging her closer to him, "Come sleep. I have a lot to teach you but it can wait until tomorrow."

"I have forever to learn," Alys closed her eyes and laid her head comfortably in that place between his neck and his shoulder. He kissed her on the top of her head and joined her in sleep—a feeling of freedom he never had before consumed him and he knew that he and his new mate would be exactly that—_free._

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A/N: This was for everyone who has ever read and loved the book 'Dragon's Bait' by Vivian Vande Velde, and who desired to read further about the quirky Alys and her mysterious and beautiful dragon companion, Selendrile. I hope everyone enjoyed the stories I wrote based around this fandom and of course I thank you guys for reading and reviewing. It means a lot! Have a good day!


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